


Journey Together

by BSplendens



Category: But in space - Fandom, Transformers:Prime
Genre: AND TWO UN-TRAUMATIZED MECHS WITH A HEALTHY AND KINKY SEX LIFE, ATTEMPTED-WHILE-DRUNK DUBCON, Also cute mechs, Angst, Attempted dubcon, Basically if any of that sounds like something you don't want, Basically there's a traumatized person and a lonely/somewhat horny person in the same space, But there is also happy, Cuddling, Current situation is safe, Fluff, Gentle courtship, Gentle courtship of traumatized mech, I might be missing a couple, I think that's about it, I'm not sure where all this will go, Lemme know if I missed something, Like candy, Lots of petting, M/M, Maybe attempted noncon later, Maybe bondage, Mech in a wheelchair, Mentioned past noncon, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Mentions of fully consensual bondage/rough sex/similar activities, Mentions of various unusual kinks, Past violence/abuse, Possible slavery later, Possibly alt mode kink later, Possibly major injuries later, Safe place now, Shy squeakies, Space leech thing, Trauma, Trauma from past noncon, Two people with a very active and kinky sex life, Unwanted body piercings, Various minor injuries, Wing injuries on Seekers, drunk people, headcanons, noncon, this is not for you, uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSplendens/pseuds/BSplendens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two little Seekers, one small transport craft, and a whole lotta galaxy.<br/>OC character exploration that evolved. It's gotten pretty cool. Come see!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Character Profiles

**Author's Note:**

> I will take constructive criticism. If you think I've done something wrong, feel free to politely tell me.  
> I've done some research on trauma for this, but I am not an expert in the slightest. If you think someone's behavior somewhere seems wrong, let me know. I'll look it over and either edit it to make more sense or edit it to explain why they did the thing.

The two characters primarily featured here are Quicksilver and Streak.  
Quicksilver is one of my oldest TF characters. He's a tiny Seeker, probably about shoulder height to Arcee, with the usual slender Seeker build. Well... most Seekers are just slender. Thanks to his small size, Quicksilver is best described with words like 'waifish'. He's a light silver color all over, usually with his paintjob in a mess due to rough treatment, and he tends to have a number of dents and little cuts and such. At the start of things, he's just silver with a little raccoon-like black mask. That'll be changed later, and the updated description is in with the change.  
Little guy cringes and tucks into himself and tries his best to hide from people, and he'll run if you scare him. He basically gives off an air of "Please don't hurt me, please, I'm tiny and helpless and I'll do whatever you want if you don't hurt me", which is more or less what's going through his mind when he's around stronger people. "Stronger people" means everyone.  
Unfortunately for him, whatever genetics gave him his tiny size also neglected to give him weapons. His claws are needle-sharp, but that's about it. He can't fight, he just squeaks and runs away when threatened.  
He's a Decepticon, technically, but only because he thought he might be safer that way. After all, the big scary mechs are more likely to leave him alone if he's on their side... right? Nope, not really. Tiny, weaponless little mech? Decepticon punching bag. If somebody in a bad mood finds him and kicks him around, nobody higher up complains, because he's not really good for anything other than stress relief. And that entails more than just being kicked, unfortunately. Poor little guy spent most of his time hiding in air vents and storage rooms, up until a short time before the start of this. 

Streak was actually intended to be a background character I could ship Dragonformers!Quicksilver with... but then Streak somehow developed himself into an actual character, and he's kind of precious.  
He's around Arcee's height, so a bit larger than Quicksilver. Still little. He's sky blue with silver markings, and he's reasonably unremarkable aside from his size. He's a fairly handsome mech with some nice pretty wings, though he's not model-level pretty.  
Streak used to be a Decepticon, due to political reasons and the messed-up stuff the Council allowed. He got left behind on a mission at one of Cybertron's moons, though, nobody took the time to grab him after a stray asteroid hit him over the helm.  
He woke up in a scavenger's ship. Said mech tied Streak down and removed his built-in weapons to sell, and was about to start on his T-cog when a large Wrecker-build mech punched the scavenger into a wall and picked Streak up. Apparently a group of explorers had spotted the scavenger's ship and recognized him as bad news. (That was possibly Lockdown, I'm not sure. Just some random guy who steals weapons from people, his identity is unimportant.)  
Streak talked to the explorers a bit, then decided that he'd like to go with them and explore stuff. That was the point where war politics were getting REALLY complicated, and nobody was really the good guy any more. Streak figured he'd leave for a little while and then come back, see if things were better.  
He came back to a dead planet.  
He'd taken a small ship for his own and flown back to Cybertron without anyone. After that find, well... he didn't really know what to do. He just decided to go and see if he could find anybody who'd survived. That's what's going on when he runs into Quicksilver.  
Thanks to Mr Scavenger Dude, Streak is weaponless, and the weapon attachments were somewhat damaged. Fortunately for him, he used to know a cyberninja. Streak is definitely not a ninja, but he's reasonably stealthy (if his wings don't give him away) and he has a decent chance in servo-to-servo combat. Since he's teeny, he ended up learning a form of martial arts that turns a foe's strength against him. You know, the kind of thing where you can make someone repeatedly hurt himself every time he tries to get you. That sorta stuff. Streak will fare reasonably well in close-up combat, but he's more or less defenseless against someone with a gun, especially given his lightweight armor. If he'd participated in more battles, he'd be dead now.

 

Also, timeline in this is a bit odd. I don't have the best grasp of time, so most dates/times/etc are approximate. If something doesn't seem spaced out right, feel free to lemme know.  
If I've screwed up anything psychology-related, please let me know so I can learn and change it. I try to be accurate. 

I think that's everything.  
Onward!


	2. Hello, little one...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver, meet Streak. And please stop hiding from him, he's sweet. Really.  
> Streak, meet the most terrified little mech you will ever encounter. Do be gentle.  
> Good luck.

Quicksilver woke slowly, gradually stirring and giving little whimpers as he regained consciousness. "Mmmh..." he whined, pedes skidding on the substance under him as he tried to get away from the prickles of pain all along his frame. Much to his shock and increased fear, someone touched his audio fins with two small servos, petting over the soft metal and stroking the spots where they joined his helm.   
Yelping in terror, the little Seeker snapped fully awake, scrambling back into a little ball against the corner of wherever he was. Servos raised in a futile attempt to defend himself, he pressed his legs together, wings rattling against the wall in terror. "N-no! D-don't-!"   
  
"Hey, hey, shh..."   
A calm-looking Seeker was now crouching near Quicksilver, servos raised slightly in an effort to calm the tiny thing in front of him. He was a soft sky blue, his frame marked with streaks of silver-white, and his gentle optics were light purple. He was a decent bit smaller than a typical Seeker, but he was still at least a head taller than tiny Quicksilver.   
Sitting down and crossing his legs, he offered Quicksilver a gentle smile, reaching out to offer him a servo. "It's alright, little one... I won't hurt you. I was just trying to calm you down... you were whimpering and acting very distressed, and I thought I might be able to soothe you by petting your audio fins. I'm sorry if I frightened you... please just calm down, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm Streak, little one, and this is a safe place."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, huddling into a little ball in the corner, then whined in alarm when he registered that his hip armor felt different than it had... oh no. No no no no... the little Seeker whimpered in terror, grabbing a blanket and clutching it to himself in a futile attempt to hide.   
  
"No, shh... I'm sorry, I know I should have asked before touching your hip plating, but it seemed loose. I'm not sure what had happened, but some of the latches on your outer plating were wedged open and didn't seem like they could manage to close. I didn't touch the inner plating, I  _promise_ , I only got the latches working again. They were bent, so... I just fixed them. I didn't particularly want to be messing around with your hip plating, but it was either that or let you wake up with that plating about to fall off. Is that okay?" Streak asked, backing off a little bit to sit somewhere else. "You're safe, I PROMISE you."   
  
Oh. Huh. "W-where am I?" Quicksilver asked softly, one servo venturing down under his blanket to check the armor in question. Hmm... okay, he was actually fine. His armor was firmly in place, nothing hurt or felt damaged, and nothing under that felt like it had been touched. So he was in  _better_  shape than he'd been when this stranger found him... that was new. New and good. Much better than waking up in pain, or snapping awake from a fitful recharge to find someone pinning him against a wall.  
"I... w-where am I? W-what h-happened?" he asked softly, looking around with wide purple optics. He was in what looked like a fairly small room, but the ceiling was low and it and the walls were covered in cabinets... a storage room? No, there was something attached to the floor in the corner... that was what he was sitting on. It was a nest of blankets, pillows, and a berth pad, and it was very comfortable.   
No, this definitely wasn't a storage room. A comfy-looking pilot's chair was over at the other end of the room, a curtain that could divide the room was anchored to the wall, and there was a large window in front of the chair. The window led out into empty space, literally... blackness speckled with stars and the occasional planet. Oh, okay... so this was a ship? That was probably good... there wasn't anyone in here but Streak, and this mech didn't seem to be too threatening. Even if he did decide to do something, he was smallish and didn't look aggressive... probably not prone to being violent. This seemed better than previous situations, at least. Maybe Quicksilver could convince Streak not to hurt him, in exchange for Quicksilver not resisting whatever Streak wanted.   
  
"I found you on a large asteroid, little one. You were huddled into an alcove, and you didn't seem to be conscious. I'm not sure how you got there, or what happened to you beforehand. Please try to relax, you're in a safe place now. We're on my ship, the  _Stargazer_ , and nobody can get to us. I have no interest in hurting you, I only wish to help. Are you in pain? I wasn't sure if you were injured or just a bit rumpled up, and I didn't think I should be touching you any more than what I was already doing to fix that plating." Streak hummed, standing up and moving over to a cabinet on the wall. "What's your name, little one?"   
  
Quicksilver hugged the blanket tighter around himself, watching the other Seeker, then unconsciously licked his lips as he saw an energon cube in Streak's servos. Primus, he was hungry. "Mmmh... I-I'm Quicksilver." he squeaked softly, licking his lips again and desperately hoping that at least some of that was for him.  _Please..._  
  
_No, no, don't coo at him... he's not hugging the blanket to be cute, he's terrified. You're just going to scare him more if you start cooing and hugging him._  Streak mentally scolded himself, then slowly approached Quicksilver again, holding out the cube. "Here you go, Quicksilver. If you're hungry, you can have this... just drink it slowly, and not all at once. I'm not going to take it away, you can take your time." he soothed, then held onto the cube when Quicksilver tried to snatch it away. "No- be calm. You're just going to make yourself purge if you drink too fast. I would know, I've done that."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, gripping the cube tightly in both servos, instinctively just wanting to hide somewhere with the energon to make sure it wouldn't be stolen from him. "Mmmh..." he whined, then just scooted closer and curled around the cube a bit, opening it and beginning to gulp at the energon.   
  
Streak let him drink for a minute or two, then gently placed a servo on the back of Quicksilver's helm, attempting to get him to stop. He didn't try to take the cube away, he just did his best to calm the Seeker down a bit. "Easy... stop for a few minutes, okay? You shouldn't drink all of that at once. I know you want to, I know you're hungry, but you're only going to make yourself sick. Shh... it's okay."   
  
"Mmh..." Quicksilver whined softly, then nodded in comprehension, hunching down into himself as he felt Streak touching his helm. "W-why are y-you t-touching me?" he asked softly, trembling all over and nervously flittering his wings. Normally the answer to that kind of question would be something very unpleasant for him, but... the back of his helm? Without claws digging in? This was actually a soothing gesture. That... might not lead anywhere bad, if he was extremely lucky.  
  
"Easy. I just needed to get you to slow down a bit, little one, and this seemed to be the best way to do that. I didn't want to just take the cube away, you don't seem like you'd react well to that." Streak soothed, then lightly traced his fingertips in a few small circles. "Is this okay? You're so tense... I want so badly to calm you down, little one. I won't hurt you, I promise."   
  
"Mmh." Quicksilver squeaked, then sighed and nodded a tiny bit, blinking up at him. Okay, that seemed like it would be alright... Streak was just touching his helm, that wasn't scary. As long as the other mech didn't go further down than his neck...  
  
"Alright, little one. Tell me if I make you nervous." Streak crooned, scooting a little bit closer so that he could gently rub the back of Quicksilver's neck in what was hopefully a soothing manner. "This is all I'm going to do... I'm just going to rub the back of your helm and neck, like this. Does this feel nice?"  
  
Quicksilver shuttered his optics for a moment or two, focusing on the feeling, then nodded a tiny bit and smiled. "Mmhmm." he mumbled, servos tightening around the cube in his servos, then raised it and took a couple of sips. Okay... this was... this might be good. He was usually pretty good at telling if someone was dangerous, if they would hurt him, and he wasn't seeing anything that seemed bad... there actually seemed to be some concern in those soft optics.   
  
"Good. Now, Quicksilver, are you hurt anywhere?" Streak asked, kneading at the base of Quicksilver's helm with one servo. "I'm not exactly a medic, but I know how to repair minor wounds. I'm guessing you don't really want me doing that, though... if you don't, I can give you the medkit I keep here."   
  
"Mmmh-" Quicksilver huddled into himself even more, clearly not liking that idea. Tugging a blanket up over himself, he shook his helm slightly, then smiled just a fraction when he saw that Streak hadn't held onto the cube. "I-I'm o-okay..." the little mech squeaked, then winced and reached down to rub at his side. Ow. Okay, maybe he wasn't alright... something must have happened to him while he was still in the near-starved state he'd formerly been in. Cybertronians could operate on extremely low energy, but it was a bit like walking around when nearly collapsed from pure exhaustion. Maybe he'd wandered into an asteroid storm? No, he'd have more dents.   
Something could have gotten at him... all kinds of strange animals lived in space.   
  
"Okay... I won't do anything." Streak hummed, making no effort to hold onto the cube. "You keep that energon... just drink it slowly, okay? Few sips at a time, don't overload your little fuel tank." he soothed, then lowered his wings a tiny bit when he realized what he was saying.  _Don't call him little. People don't like that._  "Oh dear... sorry."  
  
Quicksilver blinked and looked up at him, a little bit startled. What was he apologizing for? Calling Quicksilver little several times in the past few minutes? That was far and away one of the least insulting things he'd been called. "F-for what?"  
  
Hmm... the little one didn't seem upset. Good. "Well... some people very much dislike being called little. I don't mean to upset you, I just-" Streak paused, then gestured in Quicksilver's direction, standing up. "I'll be honest. You're smaller than me, I've never seen that before, and it's adorable. Please don't take that the wrong way, I'm not going to do anything. Aside from probably continuing to call you 'little one', if that's okay."   
  
Well, that was a warning sign, but... finding him adorable was okay. It might not be dangerous. Still... Quicksilver withdrew a bit more, tugging a blanket up over himself and just trying to hide with his energon cube. "Mhm."   
Yes, that was okay. This mech could call him little... wasn't like the term hurt or anything.  
  
"I'll just leave you alone. Now, here... I think you might like this." Streak hummed, reaching over and tugging something away from the wall. A couple of thin cushions unfolded, partially surrounding the berth until it was something between a nest and a tent. "There. That's something I built... I personally like to recharge in a nest of sorts. Just rest, little one, and drink your energon. This is a safe place."   
Offering Quicksilver a little smile, Streak walked over to his pilot's chair, partially closing the curtain and sitting down. He'd just leave the little cutie alone... no need to scare him.  
Hopefully Quicksilver would calm down soon... Streak really just wanted to help the tiny thing not be so scared. There was only one reason the latches on someone's hip armor would be damaged like that... honestly, what he really wanted was to crawl into his nest with the shiny little Seeker and hug and cuddle him until he wasn't afraid.   
Doing that would end with Quicksilver screaming in terror, probably. Too bad. Maybe once the little one trusted him a bit more... maybe he could show the cutie that touch was nothing to be afraid of... not with him.   
  
Quicksilver blinked at him, then curled into the nest and smiled a little bit, wings perking just slightly as he took another few gulps of energon. He was warm, he had a nearly-full energon cube all to himself, and the only other being anywhere near him was a small mech who didn't seem violent. He was still pretty sure Streak was going to come after him at some point, given that this Seeker probably hadn't been with anyone in a while, but... well, this seemed like the kind of mech who wouldn't intentionally injure him.   
He was relatively safe here, it seemed.   
Gradually, still taking occasional sips from the cube, Quicksilver slipped off into recharge.   
  
  
When he woke up, Quicksilver was tucked into the corner of the nest, and there was someone pressing against his back. Someone who was definitely moving around enough to be awake. True, there was cloth between them, but- eeep! Somebody was  _touching_  him-   
The little Seeker flailed for a moment or two, panicking, then whimpered and just went limp. "Nnnh..." he whined, optics huge, terrified but making no effort to escape. There was nothing he could do... Streak was bigger than him and probably stronger than him. Plus, this ship was small, it wasn't like he could hide... he'd just have to try to bargain. "Mmmh- p-please, g-gentle... I w-won't f-fight, I-I'll be g-good,  _please..._ " he begged, hoping maybe he could appeal to whatever concern Streak might have for his health. He would submit to the other Seeker, he would do whatever was wanted of him... he just wanted to not be in pain. Not any more.   
  
Oh... oh dear. No... "No, little one, shh..." Streak soothed, then slowly reached to place a servo on Quicksilver's shoulder, his spark nearly breaking at the terrified little whimper he earned. "I'm not going to- oh, Primus... Quicksilver, I'm not going to do that to you. I-I'm not a  _rapist_ , little one... please, come out of there and let me explain."   
Very gently tracing his thumb in circles on Quicksilver's shoulder, Streak made no effort to dig Quicksilver out or touch him in any other way, just trying his best to fix the mistake he'd made. "I got tired, and I wanted to recharge... I came over here, and I tapped your arm until you turned to look at me. I asked if it was okay for me to curl up near you, and- well, you didn't exactly say yes, but you did make an affirmative noise and look up at me. I thought you were awake, little one... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you so badly..."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered and hid in himself even more when he was touched, and he didn't relax when Streak was talking. He wasn't sure if he was buying that...   
But why would Streak bother trying to calm him down? It wasn't like he needed to be tempting... Quicksilver couldn't be any more cornered. Unless Streak had some kind of kink related to people who were recharging, there was no need for him to calm Quicksilver down. Either it was that or he was genuinely trying to help.   
Well, there was a test for that. The tiny mech went limp and shuttered his optics, deciding to just go very still and hope Streak eventually thought he was recharging. If Streak tried something... well, that would confirm his fears and at least get him into a situation where he knew what would happen to him. If not... he might consider the idea that he was halfway safe here.   
  
Streak kept gently rubbing his fingers in small circles, touching just Quicksilver's shoulder and nowhere else. This... this was odd. Why had Quicksilver just gone limp like that? Had he passed out?  
A few minutes later, he was reasonably sure that was the case. "Quicksilver?" the small mech ventured, lightly nudging Quicksilver's arm, then blinked and moved his servo to gently grip the thin little wrist. "Alright, Quicksilver... I'm just going to check your side, if it's okay. I want to make sure you aren't injured there. If you can hear me, please don't be afraid... I'm just going to take a look there. Is that okay?"   
No response.   
"I suppose I'll just get a look now, while I can. This is something I should check." Streak hummed, gently lifting the tiny Seeker's arm away from his frame with one servo and placing the other servo on the spot that had apparently been causing Quicksilver some pain.   
  
Quicksilver had to force himself to NOT TENSE UP as he felt his arm moved, frightened by this new development. He could hear Streak, yes, but he was starting to think maybe the other mech was just trying to keep him recharging or something- no no no... but no, he had to be still, he had to make sure.   
  
"Just stay recharging... don't wake up and panic." Streak whispered, very gently pressing his claws among the exposed muscle cables there, then realigned one little thing and pulled back. "There. That's all. You don't appear to have any kind of a wound there... my guess is, you've bruised something. Now come on, wake up. I need to talk to you."   
  
That was all? Quicksilver stayed still for a moment or two, then slowly opened his optics, cautiously looking over at Streak. "Mmh?" he ventured, a wordless little sound meant to ask what Streak was doing.   
  
"Hi." Streak offered him a soft little smile, moving to sit on the edge of the berth pad. "Are you awake? Answer me in words, please, I need to be sure this time."   
  
"Yeah. 'M awake." Quicksilver mumbled, turning over and hugging the blankets around himself as he looked up at Streak. "Been awake." he noted, wanting to see how Streak would react.   
  
No sign of any consternation... apparently Streak didn't mind that Quicksilver had been awake. "You know, I wondered about that. Was that some kind of test?" he ventured, tilting his helm slightly and watching the bundle of blankets. "Because if it was- you could hear everything I was saying, right? I wasn't just grabbing your side, I wanted to be sure you aren't hurt."   
  
"Heard you." the tiny thing muttered, tucking down into the blankets until only his optics and a trembling wingtip were visible. Huh. Maybe he was actually okay...   
  
"Good. I'll let you think your test over, whatever you were looking for... but I have a question for you, Quicksilver. May I recharge here, now that you are awake enough to process my request? I'll lay down on the edge of this pad, and you can keep as many pillows and blankets between us as you wish. Would that be alright? I have no intentions of doing anything to you, I just can't recharge in my chair. I've tried. I wake up with all kinds of kinks in my back." Streak explained, resisting the urge to coo and hug the cute little cocoon of blankets. "May I recharge here?"  
  
Quicksilver blinked up at him, then nodded a teeny bit and scooted away, scuffling around until his nest had a large section of stuff between him and Streak's space. "Mhm." he squeaked, deciding to obey and keep Streak in a good mood. This was scary, but not nearly as bad as it could have been... he was actually reasonably safe, it seemed.   
  
"Thank you." Streak hummed, offering Quicksilver a grateful little smile, then tucked himself under the edge of a blanket (he had several) and closed his optics. He kept his back to Quicksilver, laying mostly on his front to keep from smushing his wings, and he did his best to not scoot towards the heat source. He wanted to, he really did... he got lonely. But no, he couldn't cuddle the teeny cutie... he'd scare Quicksilver.   
Oh well. Maybe eventually.   
For now, he'd just be gentle and soothing and as helpful as possible.   
  
Quicksilver blinked out at him, then turned over and put his back to Streak, protecting his front as much as possible. His side still hurt, but he was probably okay... and, oh look, his energon cube was still there. Streak had apparently capped it, too, so it hadn't spilled.   
Uncapping the cube, Quicksilver took a few little sips, then sealed it again and curled into the nest to try to rest a bit more. He was so tired... and his side still hurt. Maybe it would feel better if he recharged and let his self-repair work.


	3. Shh, you're safe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver really isn't sure about this mech.   
> Streak is just trying to keep himself from going "Aww, poor babyyy..." and cradling Quicksilver like he's a little sparkling.

When Quicksilver woke up, nothing seemed to be wrong. Nothing hurt, aside from his side, and it didn't seem like he'd been touched anywhere... he was still just curled up under the blankets, snuggled up and actually quite comfortable. Huh. Turning over, the little Seeker rubbed his optics for a moment, clearing his vision from the mugginess of recharge. Huh... normally he woke up much more suddenly. This felt nice, though... it was a pleasant sort of fogginess. Now... where was Streak?   
  
Quicksilver's question was answered when Streak stepped out of a small closet-like area in the back, toweling a liquid solvent off his frame with a soft cloth. Hanging the cloth on a small hook, the Seeker flittered his wings for a moment, then looked down at Quicksilver and offered him a little smile. "Hello, little one. I forgot to ask last night... would you like a shower? I'm afraid the door doesn't quite lock, but I can close the curtain and not look back here." he offered, then blinked and shook his helm slightly. "No, never mind... I'm guessing you don't like that idea? Sorry."   
  
The little silver mech sat up and hugged a blanket around himself, shaking his helm slightly. "N-no shower." he squeaked, blinking up at Streak. Honestly, that sounded nice... but he didn't want to risk it, not yet.   
  
"Alright, little one." Streak hummed, snagging a cushion from the nest and sitting down on it. "I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not used to traumatized people, so I'm probably going to mess up fairly often. If I do something that upsets or frightens you, please just tell me and give me a chance to fix it... it's not on purpose, whatever it is. I don't intend to harm you, and I have no desire to upset you. So, Quicksilver... could you do me a favor and give me a chance to explain if I frighten you?" he asked softly, slowly holding out a servo, palm-up.   
  
Quicksilver blinked at him, then looked down at his servo, then uncurled just a bit and slowly reached out. Shyly, he placed his servo in Streak's, glancing back up at him and nodding slightly. "I... o-okay... I-I'll try." he whispered shakily, then scooted a little bit closer and offered just a tiny smile. This mech was being so gentle with him... it seemed like he might just be safe here.   
  
"Thank you." Streak hummed, giving Quicksilver's servo a little squeeze, then let go and stood up. Turning away, he walked over to the control panel, adjusting something a little bit and looking out at space. "There's a rudimentary auto-pilot on this ship, and there's nothing major coming this way. That means I can do whatever I'd like in the meantime."   
  
Huh. Quicksilver blinked and tilted his helm slightly, watching Streak drip-dry for a second. Streak's damp wings were glittering softly in the dim light, silvery-white edges glinting lightly, every open little twitch and flick a calm gesture that seemed rather inviting.   
Much to his surprise, the tiny Seeker found himself wanting to touch, wanting to gently follow the droplets along those glimmering wings and down to the bases. This was... somewhat new. Yes, he'd noticed attractive mechs before, but usually fear kept him from dwelling on it for very long. He was fairly calm here, and Streak seemed safe... maybe that was why he found himself shifting as if to get up? No, no- he couldn't hint at anything like that. Seeker wings were sensitive and not to be toyed with. The tiny mech shook his helm slightly, drawing back, then calmed a bit and did his best to just look casual as he saw Streak turning around.   
  
"This auto-pilot is useful... it means I don't have to spend all day staring out the window. Even with it, though, I get so very bored. And I've just thought of something I'd like to do with you, if we can... it's not as much fun by myself." Streak hummed, then blinked and quickly raised his servos, immediately realizing that he might be doing it again. "No, wait- I don't mean what I sound like I mean. Just- let me show you." he quickly requested, hurrying over to a cabinet nearby.   
  
He was correct. Quicksilver was already starting to huddle down into his corner, optics widening, but he relaxed just a tiny bit at the gentle reassurance. No, no, just wait- he'd promised to listen. If Streak actually did have something innocent in mind, Quicksilver should probably wait and see before he tried to hide in the shower or something.   
  
Streak opened a cabinet, quickly shoving a box into the back with a very slight blush (that particular box was for an entirely different kind of entertainment) and grabbing a flat case. "This is a game I'm rather fond of. Unfortunately, the AI is rather simple and always uses one of about five strategies. I can beat it far too quickly now, it's gotten predictable. I'd like to play against someone who won't be constantly doing the same thing. Here, I'm damp, I'll sit in the shower." he decided, slipping neatly across the floor and sliding (wet pedes + metal floor = fun slides) into the shower to sit down. "Come on- scootch over here." he coaxed, setting the case down and unfolding it into a multi-layer chessboard of sorts. "Have you ever played this game?"   
  
Oh, good... he really did mean something innocent. Though- what had he been trying to hide? No, wait- Quicksilver already knew. And it kinda made sense to keep that out of his sight, so... nothing suspicious there. Just- yek.  
Tugging a couple of blankets with him, Quicksilver scooted over to sit opposite Streak, looking down at the board. "N-no, s-sorry." he squeaked, visibly relaxing as he saw that there was nothing here to be afraid of.   
  
"Ah, that's alright. It's a little bit complicated at first, but I can teach you." Streak hummed softly, offering him a gentle smile. "Would you like to learn? Don't worry- I won't get upset if you beat me. I'm not a sore loser."   
  
Quicksilver looked the game over for a moment or two, reaching to pick up one of the included pieces, then paused and shivered a little as something came to mind. "Uhm..."   
  
Streak set a couple of pieces in place, then paused and tilted his helm a bit as he saw the shiver. "Quicksilver, what's wrong?" he asked softly, then directed a puzzled look towards the pieces in his servos. Yes, this one looked a bit sharp, but... that couldn't possibly be it, right?  
  
The tiny little Seeker bit his lip, nervous, then tugged his blanket up a bit more and tried to hide somewhat. "W-what happens if I l-lose?" he asked softly, meeting Streak's optics for a second or two before glancing away. "I... w-would you d-do something?"   
  
Oh. Well, Streak could kind of understand that fear... seemed logical enough, given the kind of mechs who might be interested in the cute little thing currently sitting across from him. Taking a bit of a risk, he reached over and gently took Quicksilver's servo in both of his own, smiling gently at him. "Aw, little one... no, you don't need to worry about that. If you lose, all I'll do is give you a few pointers and maybe start up another game. I'm not going to demand anything from you if you lose." he soothed, resisting the urge to do something like nuzzle the tiny claws. Poor little Quicksilver... this actually kind of hurt Streak to see.   
It was so difficult to resist the urge to just lean over and hug the tiny thing... Streak badly wanted to hold Quicksilver close and nuzzle his audios and pet his wings until that frightened look left those soft optics and he started purring. "Quicksilver, I am not a violent mech, and I don't have any sinister intent. Please... try to relax, won't you?" Streak crooned, lightly patting Quicksilver's servo before letting go.   
  
Quicksilver looked down at their servos, then met Streak's optics for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie. There was none. "O-oh... I'm sorry. I... I c-can't help b-being s-scared." he sighed, drawing back into himself and looking down at the floor.   
  
"I know... I don't blame you, Quicksilver. I'm just kind of hoping that talking might help calm you down... it seems to be working." Streak explained gently, then began setting up the board, hoping to change the subject to something more fun. "Here. How about we try a game or two?"   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly, perking his wings just a smidge, then smiled a fraction and leaned forwards a little bit to look at the board. "O-okay... sure."   
  
Streak perked his wings and grinned, happy to have the other Seeker opening up, even if it was only a little bit. Wings spread wide to help them dry, he began to explain the rules of the game, setting up the rest of the pieces as he did.   
  
  
True to his word, Streak didn't react badly to losing. He just shrugged a bit, flicked his wings, and softly congratulated Quicksilver on his win. That wasn't the first time, though- he soundly beat Quicksilver the first few times. The tiny Seeker cringed a bit the first time he lost, still half-expecting Streak to insist on something, but nothing like that happened. The slightly larger mech just calmly pointed out a couple of things, then gave his opponent a couple of pieces of advice before setting the board up again.   
The two ended up getting rather sucked into their game. It was quite fun, after all, and the amount of thought required helped to ensnare them.   
  
After a while, though, Quicksilver's brain was starting to hurt a bit. Not literally, of course, but he was starting to run out of thinking-steam. Biting his lip slightly, Quicksilver glanced down and away, trying to think of a good way to ask to stop.   
  
Streak caught on after a moment, but he didn't ask if Quicksilver wanted to stop... maybe it would be helpful if the other mech had to ask for himself? It might coax him out a bit if he asked for things without there being any negative outcome.   
  
Quicksilver shifted nervously, then sighed a little bit, deciding to just go ahead and ask. "U-um... Streak? I l-like this game, b-but... c-can we stop?" he asked softly, nervously glancing up at the larger mech.   
  
"Of course." Streak hummed, pressing a button on the base of the game. "The pieces are just a bit magnetic, so they stay in place better, but that also tells the computer which piece is where. Now we can resume this game at some later point." he explained, tipping the pieces into their compartment and folding the game back up. Standing up, he walked back over to his game cabinet, opening the door and sliding the game back in. A second later, he was holding a smallish box, the ship having just rattled a bit as a small asteroid bounced off of it. No alarms went off, so there wasn't any damage- but, whoops, this was the box he was trying to hide earlier. Blushing slightly, Streak quickly put the box away, closing and latching the cabinet door. "Ah- heh." he mumbled, then glanced back at Quicksilver, wanting to explain before the little guy got nervous. "T-that's nothing you need to be concerned about. I'm not hiding weapons or something- just, uh, personal stuff."   
  
"Mhm." Quicksilver made a little noise, understanding, but drew back into his corner nontheless. It wasn't really out of fear, just... awkwardness, really. And also a certain unease with anything remotely related to this particular subject.   
  
Attempting to defuse the awkward, Streak slid (his pedes were still damp) over to the control panel, checking the readings. "Random asteroid strike. No notable damage, probably just a big dent. I'll fix that later." he decided, then bit his lip and sighed. "Ah... Quicksilver, are you hiding because you're nervous? I can assure you... there's, uh, nothing in there intended for you. S-sorry, I don't mean to scare you."   
  
"'M okay." Quicksilver squeaked, turning away a little bit and trying to hide his faceplates. "'M f-fine- n-not scared." he mumbled, then glanced over towards the little shower area, slowly standing up. "Uh- 'M g-gonna take a shower... o-okay?" he asked softly, edging towards the tiny room. Maybe he could hide from the awkward in there. He really didn't know how to deal with this.   
  
"Sure. I won't look, little one." Streak hummed, pulling the curtains shut and tying a pair of ribbons together to keep them closed. "I'll just be over here... I'm plotting a new course for us, chasing a signal I've been getting for a while. Autobots... but I don't think you need to be nervous, little one." he added, recalling that Quicksilver had a small Decepticon insignia on his wing. "The signal says anyone not actively fighting for the Decepticons is welcome, and... somehow I don't think you're doing much fighting. Me, I'm really not sure which side I'm with any more. There have been... changes. It's complicated."   
  
Quicksilver had been half-listening, and he was now leaning against one wall in the shower, trembling a bit as the liquid trickled down over him. That felt good, really good, but... being around Autobots with this insignia seemed like a good idea. "H-how far?"   
  
"Oh, easily a solar system or two. It's going to be a while..." Streak hummed, spinning in his chair a couple of times. "If you'd like, little one, I can get that insignia off easily enough... I did it for myself. Figured a neutral might be safer than someone with an insignia. I know yours is on your wing, and I know removal doesn't sound fun... I'll be gentle, though. Promise."  
  
"M-maybe later." Quicksilver decided, then purred just a little bit as he got his wing bases under the flow and felt the dirt starting to be washed away. "Mmm-"   
  
"Shower feels nice, huh? Let me know if you can't properly reach your wings, little one, I'm happy to help." Streak offered, doing his best to keep everything about himself gentle and unthreatening. "Solvent is on the shelf over your helm. I suggest the stuff in the blue bottle- gentle enough for wings."   
  
  
Some time later, Streak parted the curtains slightly, having heard the shower turn off. "I almost forgot- do you have a towel near there?" he asked, stepping through, then paused when he saw Quicksilver.   
  
The little mech was dripping wet, so apparently he did not in fact have a towel. Squeaking in alarm when he saw Streak, the little mech retreated back into the shower, tugging the door shut and holding it like that. "Eeeh! N-no- g-go away..." he whispered, nearly begging and desperately hoping it would work. He knew dripping wet was a bad state to be in when there were other people around, at least for him... hopefully Streak hadn't gotten a very good look at him.   
  
Reaching up and getting a towel down from a shelf over the door, Streak moved a bit closer, lightly knocking on the shower door. "Hi... Quicksilver, it's okay. You don't need to be scared... I'm not going to suddenly decide to hurt you just because you're all wet. You could be completely naked and I still wouldn't be interested in hurting you. Just open the door a bit, alright? I have a towel for you."   
  
Quicksilver opened the door just a fraction, peeking out at Streak, then reached out and grabbed the towel. He immediately retreated, closing the door as best as he could manage, but he wasnt' able to latch it. "Mmmh..."   
  
"You're safe, I promise." Streak crooned, then sighed a bit and walked over to a cabinet nearby. Reaching up, he tugged a few more blankets down, searching through the cabinets for any more bedding. Quicksilver seemed to like nests, so it might help if Streak had a nice big nest ready for him. "Little one, I think I have more bedding in here... I'm going to make this nest a bit larger, since you seem to like burrowing into it."  
  
A little while later, Quicksilver stepped carefully out of the showers, looking around for a moment or two. Streak was in the pilot's chair, and the other Seeker only glanced back at him. Okay, that was good. Scooting over to the nest, the tiny mech immediately plopped down again, scuffling the piles of blankets and pillows around until he'd made a little den. There. "Mmm..." he cooed, flittering his wings slightly as he nuzzled down into the softness. Unfortunately, his moment of happiness was shattered by a sharp pain that shot up and down his left side, causing him to cry out and arch his back. "Aah!"   
  
Streak whirled, immediately jumping out of his chair, then hurried over to Quicksilver and knelt beside him. "Easy, Quicksilver, easy- what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked softly, slowly reaching to touch the little mech's arm. "What hurts?"   
  
"Mmmh-" whining uneasily, Quicksilver hid in the blankets again, then yelped at another stab of pain and the feeling of something  _moving_  in his side. Yelping in shock and fear, he shoved a blanket out of the way, pawing at his side in a frightened attempt to figure out  _what the slag that was._  
  
Streak watched for a second, seeing the muscle cables bulge and squirm in an unnatural manner, then tugged Quicksilver close and shifted so that one arm was around the little thing and Quicksilver's arms were over Streak's shoulder. "Easy, little one, easy- I think I know what this is, but you need to hold still and let me get at it before it gets any deeper. Don't fight me, I'm not going to hurt you, just- be still." he coaxed, sliding two claws carefully between some muscle cables and trying to part them. "Relax, Quicksilver, I need you to relax. I need you to be still and let me part these cables... I can fix this, I promise."   
  
Quicksilver squeaked and wriggled, frightened, then whimpered and froze up. Something strange and unidentifiable and alive was  _in_  his side, and Streak was  _holding_  him- oh Primus, no, he needed to get away from this! And how could Streak POSSIBLY expect him to relax?!  
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed you. Listen, Quicksilver... I'm sorry, I know this is scary, but you absolutely have to relax. Just... go limp, if you can. I'll fix this, little one, I promise." Streak soothed, very gently rubbing a servo across Quicksilver's middle back. "Be still... I promise, I'm not going to do anything to you."  
  
Quicksilver whimpered, biting his lip, then forced himself to go completely limp. "Mmmh..." he whined, hiding his face in Streak's neck out of fear and a scared attempt to make himself calm down a bit.   
  
"That's it. Okay, sweetie, just be still... I'll fix this." Streak cooed, very carefully sliding his claws between the thick muscle cables in Quicksilver's sides. His fingertips came into contact with something slick and writhing and foreign, and he carefully wrapped his servo around the culprit, sliding his claws under the object until he found the spot where it was hooked in. "Got you." he muttered, then tugged quickly, driving his claws into the object to make sure it was fixed in place and dead. Immediately dropping it on the floor, he watched it for a second to be sure it wasn't moving enough to be alive, then gave in to the urge and hugged the trembling little mech huddled against him. "Shh... look, I got it, it's gone."   
  
Quicksilver yelped at the hug, but he didn't fight, he just shivered as he stared at the creature. "W-what-?" he squeaked, staring at the thing. It was some kind of grub, large and leech-like, with jagged yellow lines all over its body. It was pierced in multiple spots from Streak's claws, and a greenish liquid was dripping from the wounds. It was writhing very slowly, apparently dying, but the sucker-like mouth was still flexing a set of little hooks and gripping at the air.  
  
"Siphon-worm. Nasty, hmm? They originated on a planet that has electrified rock formations, but ships have spread them all over the galaxy, as they grab onto ships to drain energy. They hibernate on large asteroids until they sense electricity, then they grab onto the thing and just cling. My guess would be that one got to you while you were out cold. It was latched near your fuel tank, draining some of the energy that was being processed. Look... it's gone, see? And they can't cause much damage, you'll just have some abrasions, if that. You're okay, Quicksilver, you're okay." Streak crooned, giving him a gentle little squeeze, then quickly moved his arms away. "I'm sorry- I really wanted to calm you down, and that was the first thing I thought of."   
  
Quicksilver skittered backwards into the nest, trembling as he burrowed into the blankets again. Being touched definitely still unnerved him- but that really hadn't been so bad, if he was being honest with himself. Streak was warm and gentle and kind... he'd sort of liked that. But, no, no more hugs from him.   
Besides- that had been  _in_  him. Ew ew ew. Okay, he just wanted to hide and calm down, eeeh...  
  
"Alright. You just cuddle up and relax, and I'll get rid of this little creature." Streak hummed, standing up and gingerly scooping the nasty little worm into one servo. "There's an incinerator on this ship. It's small, but it should be fairly effective..."   
  
Oh, Primus... something had just occurred to Quicksilver. Whining, he stared down at himself for a moment, his wings clamping down against his frame. "S-Streak? C-could... c-could there be m-more?" he asked, very softly, sounding absolutely terrified at the thought.   
  
Streak opened a small chute and dropped the worm in it, shaking his servo in a gesture of distaste, then turned to smile reassuringly at the smaller mech. "No, I wouldn't worry about that... they don't like liquids in general. If you don't feel any others freaking out like this one was, you're fine."   
  
Quicksilver hid again, reassured, then nuzzled his face into a pillow and did his best to not be seen. "Mmmmmh..." he whined, trembling, then relaxed just a tiny bit as he looked around. He was okay... the pain in his side was ebbing from where it had been for a while, nothing else was  _squirming_  in his innards, and... he felt okay. Streak had been touching him, yes, but it was okay... the other mech had touched just his back and sides, nothing else, nothing sensitive. He was fine.


	4. A Few Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a month or so later. 
> 
> Thorns and teeny mechs don't mix terribly well, especially when the mech in question is rather unnerved by the idea of someone touching him in order to remove said thorns.

Somewhat to Streak's consternation, it took almost a week for Quicksilver to stop acting jumpy about the idea of more grubs getting him. Poor little nervous mech.   
  
Nothing of real import happened for at least a month, possibly more. Time was slightly difficult to keep track of when 'day' and 'night' depended on if you were near a sun or not. Streak never really knew if any of his various clocks were all that accurate.   
They stopped at various planets a few times, selecting any that supported life due to the typically gentler climate found on said planets, and the two Seekers would stretch their wings while the ship ran scans for any Cybertronians. They hadn't found anyone yet, though Streak did locate a couple caches of supplies that had apparently been shot off into space.   
Quicksilver had definitely been calming down in this time. The worst they ran into was predatory wildlife, rarely anything truly dangerous, and the lack of danger helped calm the teeny Seeker.   
Also, Streak was very careful not to upset Quicksilver, and it was working quite well. The little silver mech was now perfectly fine with Streak recharging in the corner with him, though he still curled up in the corner with a pillow or two between himself and Streak, apparently needing a barrier to feel safe. Also, Quicksilver was now okay with showering and then stepping outside dripping wet, though he was still just a bit cautious. (Streak made it a point not to look at him overly much during those times, anyway. Not only did that seem to unnerve him, wet Quicksilver was very attractive and Streak didn't want to risk giving away his thoughts on that subject.)  
In the elapsed time, though, something else had developed. Quicksilver was starting to limp, but it was an odd sort of limp... like both legs hurt. Also, his wings were tense and unmoving, never a god thing to see in a Seeker. Normally, their wings were extremely expressive. Stiff wings were sometimes referred to as an emotive limp, which was just about right. It usually indicated pain. But Quicksilver hadn't asked for help...  
  
And there was a reason for that. Sort of. This problem was due to a number of large thorns buried in much of his back, picked up on the last planet visit. Said thorns had been acquired when he'd managed to fall off a small cliff and land in a big thornbush. The little mech had been able to get at most of them, but awkward angles and thorn bases half-covered by armor made it pretty much impossible for him to get at a handful of the ones in his back. As embedded thorns often did, these had become quite painful, and each thorn had a noticeable inflamed area around it. They hurt, they fragging HURT, but... he couldn't reach the ones still left. If he wanted them out, he was going to have to get Streak to get them out. And some of them were in places he didn't particularly want touched... namely, his wing bases, the backs of his thighs, aaaand possibly a couple of thorns in his aft. That was the cause of his limping, the thorns in various places he needed not full of thorns. He wanted those gone, but he couldn't reach those himself without stripping much of his armor off. He didn't want to do that, not around Streak... but it was either that or get the other Seeker to help him.   
  
After a few days of Quicksilver limping around, Streak finally couldn't stand just doing nothing. "Quicksilver... I'm sorry, but I can't bear to just ignore this any more. You're obviously in pain, little one... please, tell me what's wrong."   
  
Quicksilver cringed away from him, limping away, then sighed and just gave up. He needed this pain to go away, and there wasn't really any other option. "Mmmh..." he whined, then turned around, painfully flaring his armor out to show a few of the thorns. "I c-can't reach these. They hurt. B-but..." pausing, he whined and hunched into himself slightly, tightening his armor down again. "I don't... I don't want... don't touch m-me!" he squeaked, hopping away as he saw Streak reach towards him. He wanted the thorns out, but... there were thorns in places he didn't want touched.  
  
Streak withdrew, sighing softly, then moved over to the nest area and sat down. "Quicksilver... I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay, sweetie... I'm only trying to help. You're in pain, and I can't stand watching you limp around like this. Please, little one, just let me get those thorns out? I promise I'm not going to hurt you."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered, edging away from him, then sighed and limped over to the other mech. He didn't sit down, though... that would hurt. Well... he didn't really have a choice here... he'd have to force his fear down long enough for this. Even if some part of his mind was still insisting that Streak might get ideas.    
  
"Come here, Quicksilver..." Streak hummed, very gently taking the little one's servo and coaxing him a couple steps closer. "I'm not going to hurt you, I  _promise_. I'm just going to get rid of those thorns... and, here, I think I have something- ah." giving a little noise of satisfaction, he pulled a small tin out of subspace with his free servo, showing it to Quicksilver. "This is meant for any softer parts, mostly for organs. It helps numb things a bit, and it'll help seal up those wounds. It'll make your pain stop, little one."   
  
Quicksilver shivered and huddled into himself a bit more, then blinked and looked just a bit confused. "W-why a-are you explaining e-everything? I... I k-know what y-you're doing..." he squeaked, looking down at the Seeker sitting in front of him.   
  
"I know. It just seems to calm you down if I explain everything I'm doing... plus, I think it helps to hear something out loud." Streak explained softly, gently tracing one clawtip over the back of Quicksilver's servo. "Now... would you be okay with laying down on your front? I'm not sure of any other way I can get at those thorns without crowding you against the wall or making you sit on them. Here... perhaps just lay down in front of me?" he suggested, giving Quicksilver's servo a very gentle tug.  _Please let me do this... please don't panic._  
  
Quicksilver bit his lip and shivered, then nodded a tiny bit and slowly (painfully) lowered himself to lay down in front of Streak. His side was to the other mech, an effort to calm down slightly by keeping an optic on the other mech, but it wasn't helping that much. He was still trembling all over, scared despite his best efforts to tell himself that Streak wasn't going to hurt him. He didn't think Streak would hurt him, but his instincts were screaming for him to get away before the other mech could hurt him.   
  
"Okay, sweetie..." Streak soothed, very gently placing his servos on Quicksilver's middle back in an effort to get the tiny mech used to being touched. "I'm going to start here to give you a minute to get used to me touching you. After I get done with this part of your back, I'll move to your wing bases, since they're obviously causing you a lot of pain. After that... we'll see if you're relaxed enough for me to get the rest out. Okay?"   
  
"Mmhm." Quicksilver squeaked, nodding, though he was trembling and obviously still terrified. "I... y-yes... o-okay." he whimpered, hiding his faceplates in a pillow and biting down in preparation for pain.   
  
"Shh. Okay... these are really stuck. I'm going to put some of this salve on this thorn and see if that helps loosen it a bit, okay? At the very least, it'll numb this to make it easier on you. Now... if there's any way I can make this easier for you, tell me." Streak crooned, raising a piece of Quicksilver's arm slightly and gently dabbing salve around the base of a buried thorn. After a minute or two, he gripped the thorn tightly between a few clawtips, giving it a slow tug. "There. Got one."  
  
Much to his surprise, Quicksilver didn't feel any pain as the thorn was removed. There was a minor feeling of pressure, but the salve took care of the pain. Lifting his helm slightly, he turned to look at Streak, optics wide in genuine surprise. "T-that... d-doesn't hurt..."   
  
Streak winced slightly as he regarded the wickedly sharp thorn, then set it aside and offered Quicksilver a gentle smile. "That's the point, little one. I'm trying to be as gentle as possible... I'm glad it doesn't cause you any more pain."   
  
Quicksilver's nervously clenched claws loosened, just lightly gripping the bedding under him, and he settled his helm back onto the pillow. This time, however, he was looking at Streak. This... this actually wasn't so bad. Being touched was weird and kind of scary, but Streak's touches were making the pain go away.  
  
Streak very lightly patted a non-punctured section of Quicksilver's back, then moved to the next thorn, using one servo to raise the edge of a piece of armor in order to properly reach it. "Could you flare your armor out for me? It'll help me get at these more easily." he requested, dabbing the salve lightly around another thorn once the armor in question was perked out slightly. "Thank you."  
  
Several minutes later, Streak displayed a few long thorns to Quicksilver, then set them aside and looked down at him. "Is it okay for me to move to your wing bases, Quicksilver?" he asked softly, just wanting to be sure it was alright to touch such a sensitive place. Usually, one only touched a Seeker's wing bases when intimate activities were expected to occur at some point soon. There were quite a lot of nerve clusters and intricate joints there, and quite a few of said nerve clusters were hotspots on most Seekers.   
  
Quicksilver had actually relaxed quite a bit, soothed by the ebbing of pain and the lack of anything bad happening. He wasn't sure how he felt about being touched there, but... the potential lack of pain was worth the slight worry that there might be negative consequences. And, as far as he was aware, he didn't have any hotspots there.   
(he did happen to forget that no one had touched him there in a  _good_  way, so he wouldn't know if there were sweetspots hidden in his wing bases)  
  
"Oh, little one..." Streak sighed, having just noticed something. One of the thorns was directly through a cluster of nerves. "That looks horribly painful... why didn't you tell me about this sooner? You know I want to help... are you still that frightened of me?" he asked, gently dabbing a large daub of the salve around the thorn in question to make sure the cluster was completely numb. Someone numbing wing nerves was always a very odd feeling, but in this case it was definitely the best thing to do.   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, cringing into his nest, then sighed and un-tensed just a fraction. "I-I'm s-sorry... I... I don't l-like being t-touched. I-it... i-it scares me." he whispered, his wings starting to tremble again as the pain ebbed enough for him to gesture with them. "I... it's n-not really y-you... I j-just... I-I'm s-scared of a l-lot of t-things. P-people  _hurt_  m-me if I g-give them the chance... I d-don't u-understand why y-you're any different."   
  
"Because I'm a decent person... apparently, you haven't been around decent people." Streak sighed, applying more salve to a couple more thorns. "I don't have a reason to hurt you. Please don't be afraid, sweet mech." he whispered, then tugged on the thorn through the nerve cluster and got it out.   
  
Quicksilver's optics widened a bit at the 'sweet mech' bit, then he relaxed as the last bit of discomfort in that spot went away. "I... s-sweet?" he squeaked, confused by the new phrase. Actually, come to think of it... Streak had called him 'sweetie' a few times now. Was that... was it okay? It didn't seem very accurate... was it?  
  
"I'm sorry, should I not call you that?" Streak asked softly, pausing for a moment to be sure he hadn't done something wrong. "You seem like a sweet little thing... is it okay if I call you that? I, uh... I know it's basically a term of endearment, so I'll stop if you aren't comfortable with that. Though, one could say the same for 'little one', I suppose. I have a habit of calling people things that could be taken as terms of endearment. Are you alright with that?"   
  
Oh. Okay, that was... that was alright. Quicksilver blinked, his audios twitching slightly, then slowly spread his wings a bit to make it easier to reach the other thorns. "I-it's okay, I g-guess."   
  
"Good. I'll most likely continue to occasionally call you that, if I may. Now... just try to relax." Streak soothed, then lightly touched the leading edge of Quicksilver's wing, his voice soft. "Would it help you stay calm if I stroke along this edge of your wing, or is that too sensitive a spot on you? It's not too sensitive for me, but I know it varies."   
  
"I-I'm n-not sure." Quicksilver squeaked, blinking and looking up at him. Hmm. That might actually feel good... but... he didn't want it to feel  _too_  good. There was no way he would let anything happen that could _possibly_  get him worked up. "Uh... m-maybe just try? I... s-stop if I t-tell y-you... p-please?"   
  
"Very well. I'll stop if this is too sensitive, little one." Streak hummed, gently rubbing a servo up the very edge of Quicksilver's wing. Pausing at the tip, he rubbed his palm over the tip of the quivering little wing, then trailed it back down as he began to test a thorn with the other servo. "How's this?"   
  
Quicksilver made a little squeaking noise, then relaxed, his wings trembling against Streak's servos. "Mmmh- I... I t-think m-maybe I l-like this?" he mumbled, his optics wide as he watched the other Seeker. He was laying down, open, defenseless, and there was someone  _touching_  him, but... he was actually feeling more or less okay. Streak's optics only showed concern and a soft reassurance, nothing sinister. Well, there was a bit of what might have been affection, but... that wasn't a concern. That was okay.   
Plus, the wing petting felt nice. It wasn't too strong, though, it was just soft little tingles of niceness.  
  
"Good." Streak purred, slowly stroking his way up the shimmering wing, then swiftly removed a smallish thorn with his other servo. "I think I can do both of these things at the same time, if you'll keep your armor flared out for me. How does that sound, little one?" he asked softly, resisting the urge to just start rubbing both of Quicksilver's wings until the little one was purring and limp. No, no full-on petting. He would only do what was needed to calm this sweet mech.   
  
"N-nice... I g-guess." the tiny mech decided, flaring his armor out slightly to let Streak get at the thorns. "T-thank you."   
  
"You're quite welcome." Streak hummed, dabbing the salve around a couple of thorns before tugging them out one after the other. "Good... you seem to only have a few here. In fact... just one more. Ah- got it." he declared, showing Quicksilver a rather long thorn. "Here, see? No wonder your wings were hurting you. Now... flutter them a bit, will you? Let's just make sure you don't have anything else wrong. If you have any other issues here, I may as well fix them while we're doing this."   
  
Quicksilver flittered his wings a touch, then settled them into their usual submissive pose, though they were perked just a fraction more than usual. "'M fine." he mumbled, not able to feel anything wrong aside from mild notes of discomfort from thorn wounds, and the odd tingling that came from the half-numb nerves under the salve.  
  
"You know, Quicksilver, you don't have to keep your wings that low. I'm not going to get upset if you perk these up... I'm not very competitive or bent on complete dominance. You could be strutting around looking dominant, and I'd be fine with that. Just something to consider." Streak hummed, lightly patting Quicksilver's back, then sighed a bit when he realized what was next. "Little one... are you calm enough for me to get the rest of the thorns?" he asked softly, resuming his gentle petting of Quicksilver's wing. "I... may have to prop your hips up with something in order to better reach these thorns. I promise, I will not do this without your permission, and I will stop if you need me to stop. You are in control, little one..."   
  
Quicksilver whined softly, gripping the bedding tightly in both servos and biting his lip. "Mmmh..." he whimpered, though he didn't struggle... he couldn't. If he couldn't walk, he couldn't escape from things, so he really needed to just get these out. He was scared, though, so scared... he didn't  _want_  anyone touching his thighs or aft, which was where the rest of the thorns were. Not even Streak, though he trusted Streak more than just about anyone else.   
  
"Okay, Quicksilver. I'm sorry I have to frighten you like this..." Streak whispered, then gently touched Quicksilver's side, applying a bit of pressure in an effort to get him up on his knees slightly. "Lift your hips a bit, alright?" he requested, then slid a pillow under the slim silver hips when his trembling little patient complied. "That should get your armor flared up a bit and help me reach the thorns. I don't think it will work well from this angle, though, and... I can't help you if you have your legs pressed together like that." he sighed, gently placing a servo on Quicksilver's pede. "Little one, I know you're afraid. Unfortunately, my next request probably won't help with that. Will you let me sit between your pedes? That should solve our positioning problems. Only with your permission, though, I'm not going to force you to let me do that. I know it's very unnerving for you, and I'm sorry for that."   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip harder, only letting go when he tasted energon, and hid his face in a blanket. He didn't respond verbally, but he did part his legs just enough for skinny little Streak to sit between his ankles.   
This was terrifying. He was sprawled on his front, defenseless, and... not only were his hips propped up, he had his legs apart. So... basically this was rather similar to the sort of position one might see if intimate activities were expected. And Quicksilver was quite aware of that. This... was a bad position for him. He didn't think Streak was going to hurt him, Streak was trustworthy, he just... no no no no  _no_. Servos tightening even more, Quicksilver began to tremble erratically, starting to sob very quietly as the memories threatened to overwhelm him.   
 _Please... no..._  
  
"No, no... shh, Quicksilver, don't cry." Streak soothed, reaching forwards and very gently placing both servos between Quicksilver's wing bases. Forget the no-petting thing, he needed to get this Seeker calmed down before his spark broke from those soft little sobs. "Sweetspark, open your optics. Don't hide like that, you need to be able to see. That should help you stay here and now, little one." he whispered, slowly rubbing his servos in very small circles. He could tell what was going on... some past demon had caught hold of his little sweet mech. He needed to get the small mech back with him. "Now... focus on my servos, alright? Focus on how this feels. I need you to be calm for me, Quicksilver, and I want to help you relax. I'm going to get those thorns out of you, and that's it. I'm not going to touch you anywhere I don't have to, and I promise I'm not going to hurt you."   
  
Quicksilver turned his helm to the side, but all he had to stare at was the wall. That wasn't helping at all. Streak's touch was helping somewhat, but... it still wasn't enough. He was still sobbing, hunching into himself and just trying to hide from the world.  
  
Streak moved away from his spot between Quicksilver's pedes, slowly laying down about an arm's length away from the teeny thing. Offering a little smile, he kept one servo on Quicksilver's back, just trying to get the small thing calm enough to help. "Hi."   
  
"H-hi?" Quicksilver ventured, his little sobs pausing for a moment from sheer confusion. What was Streak up to? He wasn't concerned about it, Streak was a fairly comfortable distance from him, but... what was this?   
  
"Here, little one... by now, I'm pretty sure you trust me to some extent. Just look at me, Quicksilver, and focus on where we are right now. You're safe, you see? You're on my ship, in the middle of a solar system that appears to be completely uninhabited. No one else can get to you, and I'm not going to hurt you, sweetspark, I have no reason to do so." Streak crooned, his servo moving in gentle little circles between Quicksilver's wings. "There. Any better?" he asked, then acted on impulse and very gently wiped Quicksilver's tears away.   
  
Quicksilver blinked, twitching away from the servo on his face, then sighed and went totally limp.  Oh. That was innocent... and sweet. Why had Streak done that? Oh well. No need to worry about it right now, there were other things to deal with.  
The little silver Seeker just stayed perfectly still for a moment, watching Streak, then he very slowly reached out with one arm to put his servo on Streak's back in an imitation of what the other mech was doing with him. This was... interesting. Someone was touching him, and it felt... it felt good. Spreading his wings a touch, he twitched them for a moment or two, then perked them up just a little bit and took their pose from ultra-submissive to more of a shy-submissive. "'M okay, I think..." he whispered, carefully tracing his clawtips in small circles for a moment or two. "I... y-you can g-go ahead."  
  
"There. That's a better pose for your wings, sweet mech. Shy is much better then afraid." Streak hummed, then got up and moved over to a cabinet, fishing around for a moment. "I think I have something in here to help you stay relaxed." he muttered, then gave a little noise of satisfaction as he found something. "Here. A little surprise for you... don't worry, it's something you'll like. Flare your back armor a bit, will you?"   
  
Quicksilver blinked up at him, unable to see what was in Streak's servos. He wasn't afraid of this, no... just confused. Now... what did Streak mean by a surprise? Hopefully something nice... and that seemed fairly likely, knowing the mech he was watching. Obeying, Quicksilver spread his back armor out, flaring his wings a bit for good measure.   
The little Seeker gave a slight noise as what felt like a magnet attached to his back plating, then he shivered slightly as something -possibly rubber knobs of some kind?- pressed under the plating in a few spots. A second later, the machine began to vibrate a little bit, the knobs moving in small circles and rubbing at the wiring under his armor. Oh... mmm.  _Mmmm..._  
  
"I almost forgot I had that. You like it?" Streak asked, moving to sit between Quicksilver's pedes again and noting with satisfaction that Quicksilver was noticeably more relaxed. He was still tense and slightly trembling, but he wasn't outright shaking and he didn't look to be panicking.   
  
Quicksilver blinked, wings trembling, then smiled a bit and glanced back at Streak. "Y-yeah... t-that, uh, f-feels nice." he mumbled, quivering his wings slightly in a gesture of approval. That felt very nice... the machine was rubbing at all the muscle cables that were kept tense all the time by him forcing his wings down against his back, and it was easing all the tension out.  
  
"Good. You can keep that on for a while, if you'd like... just enjoy it." Streak purred, reaching to gently rub near the machine, then he sighed slightly and picked up the tin again. Maybe he could keep Quicksilver calm-ish by just talking to him? "Okay, little one. Focus on how that little machine feels... it'll help you stay here, I think. Just try to relax... this shouldn't be painful." he soothed, placing one servo lightly on the inside of Quicksilver's knee for a moment. Hmm... now he had a bit of an idea. Maybe he could just keep the tiny mech entertained and interested in something in order to distract him from the fear and apprehension.    
"You know, this isn't the first time I've had to pull sharp things out of someone. I used to know this mech who got drunk quite often, and he tended to run around like a madmech when he was drunk. Sometimes he would run into things. Unfortunately, he would start running around even faster if he was injured. Also, he was considerably larger than me. I couldn't do much to stop him from running around, I just had to follow him until he collapsed. I usually ended up sitting on him anyway so I could get at whatever he'd done to himself."   
Continuing to just gently talk, he spread the salve around a couple of thorns in Quicksilver's lower thigh, deciding to start in what might hopefully be a less frightening spot for Quicksilver. He wasn't drawing Quicksilver's attention to what he was doing by asking if it was okay... he just kept talking, recounting whatever stories he could think of that might amuse the tiny mech and keep him distracted.  
  
Somewhat to his own surprise, Quicksilver actually felt okay. The machine on his back was easing the tension out of his frame, Streak's random little stories were giving him something rather nice to focus on, and the salve was rapidly numbing the painful areas around the thorns. He couldn't help tensing up every time he was touched, his fear still strong, but he wasn't so terrified any more.  
  
Streak smiled as he felt the tiny Seeker relax a touch, but he didn't comment, deciding to keep Quicksilver's attention off what was going on right now. Continuing to just talk about any random things he could think of, Streak kept gently removing the thorns, gradually working his way up Quicksilver's thighs. He didn't run into any real problems, not even when he was removing a couple of thorns from Quicksilver's aft, but then he had to get rid of the last thorn... and this one was lodged right up under the edge of Quicksilver's crotch plating. Ow. Quicksilver had tensed up every time he touched near the last few, so... this wasn't going to go so well, most likely.   
  
Quicksilver immediately tensed up as he realized what was next, his claws tightening on the blanket again. "Mmmh- S-Streak..." he whimpered, arching his back slightly and trying to press his legs together. Streak's frame being there kept him from doing it, though, and he whined very softly when he realized that. No, he didn't want to be touched there... no, too much."S-Streak... I d-don't w-want..."   
  
"Shh, little one." Streak sighed, reaching up to gently rub Quicksilver's back. "I know you're nervous, and I know you don't like where I have to touch to get that thorn. But you've been doing so well, Quicksilver... can you just be still for a minute more?" he asked softly, making no effort to hold Quicksilver still as the frightened Seeker trembled nervously. "All I have to do is dab a bit of this salve around the thorn, wait a few seconds, and tug it out. I won't touch anywhere else, and I won't mess with your crotch plating. I'm just going to get rid of that thorn, then we'll be done. No more thorns, no more pain. How does that sound?"   
  
Quicksilver whimpered, staring back at him, then slowly forced himself to stop trying to close his legs. "I... j-just do it." he whimpered, his wings quivering nervously despite the machine still buzzing away on his back. He should just get this over with so he could curl up and hide...  
  
"Alright, Quicksilver, alright." Streak whispered, quickly dabbing the salve around the thorn, then placed both servos on Quicksilver's middle back and gently rubbed at the plating under his servos. "We'll just give that a few seconds. You're okay, little one, you're okay..." he soothed, just trying to keep Quicksilver calm while the salve soaked in.   
"Okay, sweet mech. Now I'm going to get that thorn out. Be still..." Streak hummed, quickly gripping the thorn's base, then tugged it out in one quick motion. "Okay, I got it. Go on, you can hide under a blanket or do whatever you want to get more comfortable. It's okay if you get salve on the blankets, it'll just end up in random spots on us. No harm in that. And do tell me if anything will help you calm down..."  
  
Quicksilver immediately scooted away, crawling under a blanket and curling up into a shivering ball. Slag, he really just wanted to hide- he wanted to be somewhere safe and comfortable and private. Turning around, he peeked out from under the blanket, then slowly reached out with one servo and made a cautious little grab for Streak's servo. He... had an idea. Streak had said 'anything', so... hopefully he might allow this?  
  
Streak set the last thorn aside, looking down at him, then gently took Quicksilver's servo in his. "Hi." he cooed, looking down at the cute little mech under the blanket. "Better now?"   
  
"Y-yeah." Quicksilver squeaked, then scooted back under the blanket slightly, though he still didn't let go of Streak's servo. "C-come h-here?"  
  
Streak tilted his helm slightly, not sure what was going on, then obeyed and crept under the blanket with him. He stayed about arm's length from Quicksilver, not wanting to frighten the tiny mech... even if he did want to be a lot closer. Forget 'a lot closer', he wanted to snuggle Quicksilver until no one could tell exactly how many people were under the blanket. But no, no cuddling for him. He'd just ask... "What are you up to, little one?"   
  
Quicksilver watched him for a moment or two, then scooted just slightly closer, reaching over his own shoulder to tug the still-running massage machine away from his back. Gently tugging on Streak's shoulder, he attempted to get the other mech to turn over, slowly reaching over in an attempt to put the machine on Streak instead.   
  
Streak obediently turned, flaring his armor slightly, then gave a little noise of pleasure when he felt the machine click into place and engage. "Mmm... thank you." he purred, then made a small noise of surprise when something suddenly pressed against his back. Oh-  
Quicksilver was now hugging him from behind, pressed up close to his back in an unexpectedly unafraid manner. "Oh- well, little one, what brought this on?" he asked softly, sounding mildly surprised but not unhappy in the slightest. "I'm not complaining in the slightest, sweetie, I'm just curious."   
  
Quicksilver stayed tense for a moment or two, then slowly relaxed into Streak's frame, somewhat enjoying the machine that was currently vibrating against his chassis. "I, um... y-you, uh... I-I'm n-not sure. I w-want to..." he mumbled, shrinking into himself and trying to decide if he wanted to let go. This had been an impulsive idea, a way to comfort himself... after all, friendly contact was supposed to be fairly innocent. But was it a bad idea to do this?  
  
"Mmm, it's okay..." Streak cooed, feeling Quicksilver trying to retreat into himself. "Don't hide, Quicksilver. You can hug me, it's okay. I'm going to be honest... I'm rather enjoying this. You're nice and warm. Would you be willing to stay like this for a little while? Your choice, of course, but I rather enjoy this."   
  
Quicksilver blinked, considering this for a moment, then put his arm over Streak's frame again and tried to relax slightly. As long as Streak wasn't facing him, this was fine... in fact, it was rather nice. Streak was warm, the vibrations against his chassis were rather nice, and now he didn't hurt. The worm's damage was finally healed, he hadn't recently wrenched anything, and the salve was taking care of the pain from the thorn marks. He was safe, he was warm, he was well-fed... he felt  _good_. Mmm.   
  
"There you go, sweetie." Streak crooned, glancing back at Quicksilver before just going still and relaxing against the small mech's frame. "You see, this is why I've been recharging in the corner with you. Well, aside from the fact that my chair is not good for recharging in. I've been hoping you might decide to scoot a bit closer... you're afraid of touch, and I've really been wanting to show you that you don't have to be. I want you to see that this is a good thing when there are safe people around. I can't just crawl over and start cuddling you, though, I know I'd just scare you if I did that. You cuddling me, though... you aren't afraid, right?"  
  
Quicksilver hunched down into himself slightly, still nervous, then relaxed and made a small noise. "Mmh. N-no... I'm okay. I, um... I l-like this. I-is this okay w-with you?" he asked softly, wanting to be sure Streak wasn't uneasy or anything. He didn't seem like it, but... always best to be sure. Also, he needed to ask about this idea to test the waters a bit more.   
  
"Mmm... no, little one, I'm perfectly fine. I'm not one to be nervous about being touched, and you're such a cute little mech that you couldn't scare me unless you really tried." Streak hummed, gently quivering his wings up against Quicksilver's frame. "If you like this, let's just... lay here for a while."   
  
"A while" ended up being "until we fall asleep". And Streak... he was having an interesting dream, probably triggered by Quicksilver willingly touching him like this.   
 _He was laying on his back, legs wrapped gently around Quicksilver's waist, watching the little mech shyly explore his hip plating. "It's okay, little one, don't be shy. You won't hurt me, Quicksilver, I promise. You're okay, sweetie."  
  
Quicksilver looked so nervous, even though he seemed to be the one in charge... poor thing. Made Streak's spark hurt to look up at him. He shouldn't be this scared... but it didn't quite look like fear for himself. Judging by the way he was acting, he thought he was going to scare or upset Streak, or possibly even hurt him.   
Yes... he was being so careful with his claws. It was fear that he would hurt his partner, Streak's mind helpfully informed him.  
  
"Hey, Quicksilver... what are you afraid of? You won't hurt me by spiking me, sweetie. I know you aren't experienced, but I'll help you out a bit. It's gonna be just fine, baby... we're both going to enjoy ourselves." Streak soothed, reaching up towards Quicksilver's wings, then retracted his outer crotch plating and offered him a little smile. "Come on, sweet mech... please?"_  
  
Unfortunately (or fortunately?), Streak woke up before Quicksilver could do anything more than just venture a servo towards his inner plating. Streak's frame was still reacting slightly to the dream, though... his sparkbeat was fairly rapid, his engines were rumbling very softly, and he could feel his interface systems starting up and beginning to radiate heat.   
Oh  _slag_. If Quicksilver woke up and found this... he'd never trust Streak again. Quicksilver being close to him had apparently triggered this... the tiny Seeker was going to hide in the shower and never come out if he realized what had happened. Streak couldn't let that happen... he needed to stop this reaction, and quickly.  
"I'm sorry, sweetie, I need to get up." Streak hummed, gently prying himself away from the other mech and pressing a pillow into Quicksilver's arms to keep him calm. "Don't wake up."  
Immediately walking the few steps into to the shower, Streak shut the door and turned the shower on as cold as it could go, shuddering and hissing slightly at the frigid liquid. "Nnnh- ah, well, that works fairly well." he muttered, aiming the showerhead at his front for a moment or two. That should get everything shut off before Quicksilver woke up... though at the cost of some discomfort.   
And, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted that dream to continue in real life. He wanted to show Quicksilver that there was nothing to be afraid of if one's berth partner wasn't trying to cause pain.  
Could he maybe accomplish that? Streak leaned against the wall, thinking to himself for a moment or two and trying to decide if he would do so. Also... if he WAS going to do this, what all was he going after? Did he just want Quicksilver to not be afraid, or... no, in fact, Streak wanted more. He wanted Quicksilver for himself. Maybe he would try some sort of courting... he'd have to be very careful, though, he couldn't risk scaring Quicksilver. Maybe he could start by offering Quicksilver some sort of candy, or perhaps he could try to offer more physical touches of one kind or another. Maybe he could just offer himself as a source of warmth? Or perhaps an offer of a shoulder massage would be taken well. He just needed to be really careful with this little cutie.   
Oh dear- he could hear Quicksilver moving around now. Okay- if Quicksilver came and asked why he was in a cold shower, he was going to have to be only half-truthful. There was no way in anything that Streak could tell the whole truth, Quicksilver would freak out, so... maybe he'd just lie a bit. Normally he kept to the truth, but there were situations where one had to weigh the value of truthfulness against its effect on others.   
  
Quicksilver slowly got up, drowsily blinking around, then noticed the half-open shower. Oh, okay. Wandering over, he blinked and opened the door a bit more, sleepily reaching inside. "Mmh. Streak, 'm cold." he mumbled, definitely half-asleep. He wanted Streak to cuddle him again, mostly due to the fact that he was too sleepy to be scared. The cold water woke him up, though, and he gave a little noise of surprise as he felt how cold it was. "Mmmh-" he whined, startled, then squeaked a bit and retreated when he realized what ultra-cold showers were usually for.   
  
Slag.   
Well, time to lie. Streak grabbed a towel, turning the shower off, then stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around himself, he moved to just sit on the edge of the berth pad, raising one servo and trying to get the little mech to calm down. "No, little one, shh. You don't need to be afraid."  _Okay, what's a believable lie that's at least half true?_  "I apologize, Quicksilver. I... was having a dream involving a past interface partner. It happens every now and then, just randomly. It's been a while since I've been with anyone, so my frame apparently decided to react somewhat. I didn't want to frighten you, so I chose to shower and get that reaction shut off. My apologies, sweetie..."   
Alright, there we go. Truth aside from who exactly the dream was about. That was acceptable, and hopefully Quicksilver wasn't going to be scared off by that.   
  
Quicksilver nervously curled into himself, staring at Streak, then relaxed just the tiniest bit at Streak's reassurance. Oh. Well... that was... that was alright. Maybe. Whimpering a bit, he retreated a bit more, trying to decide if it was okay.   
  
Streak bit his lip, glancing away, then sighed and decided to try explaining something. Maybe he could soothe Quicksilver a little bit with this...   
Shifting to lay down on his stomach, Streak took the least threatening pose he could think of, crossing his arms under his helm and just trying to look unthreatening. "Quicksilver... I'm going to explain something to you, something that I think may help calm you down a bit. I know you're probably very uncomfortable with this subject, but please just listen for a minute or two."   
Pausing, the little Seeker glanced away, twitching his wings and blushing in a shy manner. "Ah... so most people have a thing or two they really like in the berth. Some people like to play with a Seeker's wings, some like it if their partner calls them a certain thing, some like having their armor removed... there are all kinds of things, and assuming it's consensual, those things are fine. Me, I have something I like, too."   
Pausing, he met Quicksilver's optics as best as he could, blushing just slightly but apparently okay with talking about this. "I  _love_  seeing that the mech who's with me is enjoying himself. That's what really turns me on. If my partner isn't reacting much or doesn't seem to be enjoying himself, that's it, I quite simply can't get into it. Which means I don't have a reason to... hurt you... like you're afraid of. I wouldn't really get anything out of forcing myself on you, so I have absolutely no reason to do so. On the other servo, I have many reasons to not hurt you, morals being one of the highest things on that list. Quicksilver, please don't hide from me... I'm not going to hurt you."   
  
Quicksilver had been apprehensively tucking down into the blanket as he listened to Streak, NOT liking where this was going. But... the point Streak got to... oh. That... he'd never heard of  _that_  as a kink. Not among Decepticons. But... that was a good thing for him, right? If Streak was being truthful, Quicksilver was safe.   
But... what if Streak was lying about that? Clearing his throat, Quicksilver untucked just a fraction, trying to meet Streak's optics in an effort to find anything that might serve as a warning sign. "H-how can I t-tell if y-you're lying?" the little mech squeaked, claws nervously digging into the blanket he was holding.   
  
Streak lowered his wings and scooted closer to Quicksilver, slowly reaching out and offering Quicksilver a servo. "Well... I haven't lied to you yet, have I?"  _Aside from that one half-truth..._  Streak mentally added to his statement, though he managed to keep his faceplates from revealing the slight mental wince at deceiving Quicksilver again. He needed to be careful to not let this go any further... the more he lied, the worse Streak was at it. Plus, he didn't  _like_  lying, he just really needed to keep Quicksilver calm. Most likely, lying was safer for them both than telling the truth... unless Quicksilver somehow found out.   
Never mind that concern, though, he needed to focus on getting Quicksilver back to that calm state he'd been in before. "Sweetie? May I come a bit closer? I have an idea for something I think you'll like, if you'll let me borrow your servos for a little while." the small blue Seeker hummed, making no attempt to grab Quicksilver's servo or anything.   
  
That was a valid point... Streak hadn't done anything that seemed dishonest, not yet. Quicksilver was pretty good at reading people, and... he didn't see anything in Streak that he needed to be afraid of. It seemed like he could actually trust this mech. And Streak's ideas felt good, so... slowly, Quicksilver held out his servos, his little claws visibly trembling just a bit. "I... o-okay."   
  
Streak moved a bit closer, gently taking one of Quicksilver's servos in his. He then began to gently rub circles on Quicksilver's palm with his thumbs, hoping to relax the small mech. "Easy... I'm just going to give you a servo massage, alright? Should feel pretty good. Tell me if I hit any old scars or anything, though... your servos look fragile." Streak hummed, then stroked gently along those slim little claws, mumbling very softly to himself as he did. "Tiny claws... cute."  
  
Quicksilver didn't tense up at the touch, surprisingly, and he started to relax a bit after his initial worry began to fade away. He did tense slightly at Streak's remark, but he didn't react too badly... that seemed okay. "Cute" was okay. Maybe. "Mmmh?"   
  
"Oh- my apologies." Streak hummed, lightly patting Quicksilver's servo for a second before gently resuming the massage. "But your servos  _are_  cute, to be perfectly honest. You have such little claws... you obviously aren't a fighter, and I find it cute." he explained, then shook his helm and visibly stopped himself, his servos stilling for a moment. "I'm sorry. I should stop talking now." he muttered, gently rubbing between Quicksilver's fingers for a moment in an effort to ease away the newly arrived tension. "Oh, please don't be afraid, little one... I'm sorry, I tend to voice observations about people."   
This was essentially how things had been going for the past month or so. Streak would ease one of Quicksilver's fears, then he would accidentally say something and Quicksilver would tense up again. Fortunately, it was reasonably easy to calm Quicksilver with logic and gently talking him through whatever he was afraid of.   
Tiring? Yes, somewhat. Streak had to be so very careful not to scare Quicksilver, and that combined with soothing him to make for a rather brainpower-intensive ship-mate. It looked tiring for Quicksilver, too. The little guy was just so tense all the time... no wonder there were knots of tight muscle cabling all over him. Hopefully Streak could help calm him by working out some of the knots in his servos, at least. Really, how did one manage to tense up enough to get knots in their servos?   
  
Quicksilver was going back and forth between tensing and relaxing, trying to decide if Streak was frightening him or not. On the one servo, Streak was so gentle and friendly and careful... on the other servo, he kept doing things that made Quicksilver think Streak might be attracted to him. Was... was that okay? Streak was gentle, and he was being careful not to frighten Quicksilver. the tiny Seeker was still afraid, but... there was just a chance that he might be okay with this. If Streak truly didn't intend to hurt him, then... maybe it was okay to let the other mech be interested?  
  
Streak smiled as the tiny thing finally relaxed fully, then he very slowly moved just a bit closer, releasing Quicksilver's servo and taking the other. "Hi, sweetie... will you let me get a bit closer? You've got all kinds of knots all over you, little one, and I'd like to get some of those eased out. See, this is what I'm doing with your servos... just getting rid of the knots. If you're willing, I'd like to do the same with your neck cabling, especially the back of your neck. It won't hurt, but it may be just a bit uncomfortable at first. After a minute or two, it should start feeling pretty nice. How does that sound?"  
  
Quicksilver flexed his free servo, pleasantly surprised by the lack of any tenseness, then met Streak's optics and nodded slightly. "S-sure... t-that sounds n-nice." he decided, his optics soft and shy as he looked up at Streak. What Streak was doing to his servos felt nice, so... he could let this continue somewhere else.   
  
"Alright... I'm happy to oblige." Streak hummed, gently rubbing between the intricate little workings of Quicksilver's servos. "Just relax, alright? Maybe even lay down... I won't do anything you aren't comfortable with, I promise. Though, I admit... with you, sometimes I can't really differentiate between you just being nervous and you not liking something but hiding instead of saying it. I mean, of course I can tell if you're outright terrifying, but I'm not always sure if it's okay to continue and possibly calm you. In short, if I do something that makes you too nervous or something that you just don't like, please tell me. Tell me without claws, though... just talk. I won't be angry at you if you tell me to back off, little one, I promise."   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly in understanding, nervously biting his lip, then slowly shifted to sort of recline against a heap of bedding. He wasn't quite laying down, but he was reasonably close.   
The tiny mech tensed slightly in pain as something stuck roughly into the inside of his servo, then he went limp and gave a soft little noise when Streak dislodged the offending object; yet another thorn, though a very small one, that had apparently been stuck inside his servo. "T-thanks." he squeaked, tucking half-nervously into himself and blinking up at Streak with optics that no longer looked constantly worried.   
Primus... how could Streak get him calmed down so easily? Quicksilver knew he should still be extremely on edge, he was quite aware of that fact, but... he didn't feel scared. Nervous, yes, definitely. He couldn't imagine  _not_  being at least slightly nervous. But... he wasn't scared.   
Only when Streak's faceplates lit up did the tiny mech realize he'd just said that last part out loud.   
  
"Good..." Streak cooed, then brought Quicksilver's servo up and gently nuzzled the back of his servo. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, little one. Now... how about we work on getting you past even being nervous, hmm? You give me a couple of weeks... I bet I can calm you down enough that you aren't nervous at all. What do you think? Does that sound doable?" he asked, continuing to gently massage Quicksilver's servo in order to keep him calm.   
  
"I... m-maybe?" Quicksilver decided, tucking into the blankets slightly to get comfortable. "I... I d-don't r-really remember not being nervous about things." he admitted, his optics saddening for a moment. "I d-don't want to be so nervous, but... I d-don't know if I can help it. I'm sorry."   
  
"Oh, don't apologize, little one." Streak hummed, gently putting Quicksilver's servo down and scooting closer to him. "Okay, Quicksilver... just try to stay relaxed, okay? And... would you be willing to turn over so I can reach better?" he asked, knowing Quicksilver might be a bit unhappy with that idea. "Or... I have an idea. Just stay like that for a few minutes, let me see if I can get you even more relaxed, then turn over if you decide you feel safe doing that." he suggested, slowly reaching one servo towards the small mech. "May I?"  
  
Quicksilver nodded, then arched his back slightly and tried to offer his neck to Streak, not sure how to do this. "O-okay... s-sure."   
  
It was a bit of an awkward angle, since Quicksilver was facing him, but Streak was still able to start gently rubbing the cables in Quicksilver's neck. He tried not to touch the little mech's throat, and he paid special attention to the back of Quicksilver's helm, trying everything he could think of to help calm the tiny thing even more. "How's that feel?" he asked, smiling broadly when the only answer was a little sighing noise and the sight of Quicksilver's optics half-closing at his touch. "Past answering verbally, are you? Good. Don't bother trying to talk... you can just make noises if I ask you something."   
  
After a few minutes, Quicksilver shifted and slowly turned over, putting his back to Streak like the other Seeker had requested. He tensed just a fraction when he felt the berth padding shift as Streak moved even closer, then he went right back to being half-melted when the other mech pressed on juuuust the right spot at the base of his helm. Quicksilver  _cooed_  in response, shuttering his optics fully and going limp against the bedding under him.   
  
"Aw." Streak crooned, his wings flittering slightly in delight at Quicksilver's reaction. That noise, oh Primus, that  _noise_! So CUTE! Aw, but now he wanted to hug Quicksilver.  _No, no hugging. You'll scare him. Even if he IS absolutely PRECIOUS, you can't hug him. Maybe give him another session or two of this, then ask._  
  
Quicksilver just stayed in the little pile of melted Seeker for a while, occasionally responding to good rubs with a little coo or hum but otherwise not doing anything. That changed, though, when he felt Streak run a servo down his arm. The larger Seeker was just going to pick Quicksilver's servo up, but the stroke triggered Quicksilver's paranoia, especially when he remembered something Streak had said. Streak liked it when people enjoyed themselves... was there a chance he would take Quicksilver's relaxation and submissive pose as an invitation?   
His fear was only confirmed (or so he thought) when Streak edged a bit closer, now brushing against Quicksilver's wingtips slightly. Tensing up, he leaped away as best as he could manage while laying down, staring back at Streak with frightened optics. "N-not an invitation!" he yelped, burrowing into the blankets and trying to hide from the larger mech.   
  
"Wh-" Streak jerked back, startled, then immediately shook his helm and reached towards Quicksilver. He didn't touch, though, he mentally reminded himself and drew back. "No, no... Quicksilver, that's not what I'm doing, I promise. Why would you think I'm- oh. Ah... I should explain. Watching someone just relaxing like this isn't the kind of thing that tends to turn me on. It has to be, ah, a less innocent sort of enjoyment. Don't worry, sweet mech, I wasn't trying anything like what you think. I wanted to take your servo for a minute or two, and I was considering asking if I could move to your shoulders, but that's all. You've jumped to a rather frightening conclusion, it seems, but that's okay... I understand why you're so nervous." Streak hummed, backing up slightly and sitting with his legs crossed. "Please come out, Quicksilver, we need to establish something related to our interactions."  
  
Quicksilver peeked out of the blankets, then just went limp, staring out at Streak but not quite seeming so afraid. "E-establish what?" he squeaked, relaxing a tiny bit as he saw that Streak had backed up. What was the other mech talking about?   
  
"Here, little one... give me your servo, will you? Let me resume the massage, please... you were so relaxed, and I'd like that to happen again. I suspect you'll be much easier to talk to if you're all relaxed." Streak hummed, reaching towards Quicksilver slightly, then smiled when the tiny Seeker slowly offered his servo. Gently taking Quicksilver's little claws in his, he stretched out on his stomach, putting himself slightly lower than Quicksilver and trying to look a bit submissive. "You seem to be under the impression that I might misinterpret something as a proposition... things like this have happened a few times. That's not the case, little one.   
I know you're scared of intimate activities, and I'm not going to try to start anything like that... I'd never do that without permission. And I don't mean half-hints or something that's interpreted as a suggestion. Quicksilver, I'm not going to take anything as a proposition. It doesn't matter if you end up in my lap somehow or we somehow manage to magnetize ourselves together -and yes, that's happened-, I'm not going to take it as a suggestion. The only thing I'd take as a proposition would be you coming up to me and just outright saying that you want to interface, and I highly doubt that's going to happen. You don't need to be afraid of me misinterpreting you, Quicksilver, because I'm not going to take something as an invitation unless there's simply no other way to interpret it. Okay?"   
  
Quicksilver watched him for a moment or two, then looked down at their servos, watching Streak's claws gently dip between the plates and wires in his servo. Oh. Well... that put another one of his fears to rest. Slowly, he crept out of his nest in the berth, meeting Streak's optics and not pulling his servo away. He just stayed like that for a moment, searching those soft optics for any hint of a lie, then he slowly turned around so that he was sitting with his back slightly to Streak. "I... o-okay. K-keep going?" he whispered, glancing back over his shoulder and twitching his wings slightly. Streak had a point about what the massage was doing to him... with every gentle rub across his servo, Quicksilver could feel himself relaxing just a fraction more, and it felt good. Having the tension just gently nudged aside was nice, and it felt so natural that it didn't frighten him. The contact soothed him, grounded him, and helped prevent the remnants of his little panic attack from clinging to him. So... maybe he'd just ask Streak to continue the neck rubs?  
  
"Oh, sure... though, I have a bit of an idea. Allow me to shift you a bit?" Streak requested, letting go of Quicksilver's servo and beginning to round up bedding. "Stay sitting there... I have something I think you might like. Should be comfortable."   
Piling a number of pillows and wadded blankets into Quicksilver's lap, Streak lightly touched the back of the small mech's helm, encouraging him to lean forwards. "Go on... just rest your weight on those."   
  
Quicksilver obeyed, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. Flickering his wings slightly, the little Seeker tensed nervously as Streak moved behind him, still somewhat unsure about this. "Mmmh..." he whined, hunching down into himself and looking nervous.   
  
"Aw, sweetie... don't be scared." Streak hummed, reaching forwards and beginning to gently massage the back of the smaller mech's neck. "Easy, little one. Just relax, you're fine." he crooned, smiling when he felt Quicksilver begin to relax. "There... that's it. You don't need to be afraid of me, sweet mech, you're safe on this ship."


	5. See? Attention can be nice, little one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver kinda accidentally walks in on something. He is not pleased by reactions.   
> Streak makes an offer that will not be accepted any time soon.   
> Quicksilver starts wondering if he might want more attention from Streak.

It was about five days after the first time Quicksilver had let Streak touch him in more than just a casual way. Now and then Quicksilver would shyly request a neck rub from Streak, and he was willing to let the other mech touch his shoulders and the areas around his wings during such an occasion, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to let Streak pet his wings. To keep from scaring him or crowding him too much, Streak avoided those little wings... though he badly wanted to pet them and watch Quicksilver melt. For now, he'd just have to be content with having Quicksilver unafraid of being touched by him...  
And also being huggy.   
  
  
Streak glanced back at the little mech pressed against his side, then grinned and flittered his wings in an expression of delight, smiling brightly at the slowly waking being. "Hello, Quicksilver." he cooed, quite happy with what he'd just woken up to. "Your subconscious would like more contact, it seems... would you be okay with me turning towards you a bit more and putting an arm over you? I'm going to need a verbal answer, to be sure you're awake enough to realize what's going on."   
  
Quicksilver blinked at him, drowsy, then nodded slightly and tried to hug Streak closer. "Okay. B-but let go if I tell you." he mumbled, still a bit asleep but aware enough to think about this. He'd test this sort of cuddling... maybe it'd be nice.   
  
Streak rolled over and pressed gently against Quicksilver's little frame, putting the two chassis-to-chassis and smiling as he felt the little mech try to hide his faceplates. "Here we are... do you like this, little one?"  
  
The tiny silver Seeker tensed up a little bit, looking down both of their frames as he felt pressure on his leg, then relaxed again when he saw that Streak just had his knee hooked over Quicksilver's leg. Ah. That was fine... "I... I like this." he mumbled, tucking his unoccupied arm up between them to protect his rather fragile servo from being caught under one of them.   
  
"Mmm, good." his larger ship-mate hummed, going mostly limp and allowing Quicksilver to decide what they would do. "Do you just want to lay here, Quicksilver? I'm still a bit drowsy, so I may not stay fully coherent, but rest assured I'm perfectly fine with anything you'd like to do with me."   
  
Quicksilver mumbled something about warm people, then closed his optics and immediately sank back into recharge. He'd just like to do this.   
  
Streak rumbled softly and nuzzled his faceplates into the top of Streak's helm, then followed his example, though oddly his optics stayed open. Sometimes that happened... it really looked kind of freaky, those soft optics just staring off into space.   
  
  
"Mmmmuhh..." Quicksilver whined in protest as his warmth was taken away, reaching out and trying unsuccessfully to grab Streak as the other mech got up. His optics were unfocused, his wings were crooked, his armor was ruffled, and his overall look was that of a mech who was not awake yet no matter how much stuff he was doing.   
  
"I'm sorry, little one, but we're about to run into a planet." Streak explained, now sitting in his pilot's chair and trying to regain control of his ship. "Something knocked us a bit off course and into a planet's gravitational pull. The auto-pilot can't handle that, unfortunately, so it sounded an alarm. I suggest you brace yourself, Quicksilver, this could get a bit rough. Tuck up and protect your wings in those pillows- that's why I have so many."   
  
Quicksilver nodded and burrowed under all the bedding, getting as much around his wings as possible in order to protect himself, then yelped at a hard jolt that tossed him into the padded wall.   
  
Streak grumbled something, then tugged hard on the controls, managing to switch things over from an emergency crash landing to a really-rough-but-controlled landing. "Okay, Quicksilver, we're mostly fine- we're in no danger, but there's going to be some minor chaos in here."   
Five shaky minutes, one loud crunch, and a noticeable bit of squeaking (Quicksilver) later, Streak popped open a hatch on the roof and climbed out, looking around for a moment. "We've apparently landed in a large bush. No damage to the ship, not that I can see... probably some dents from whatever hit us. This seems to be a safe planet... I don't see anything to indicate otherwise. Well- some rather large creatures just flew overhead, but they don't look dangerous, they look fragile. May want to avoid them just in case, but we should be safe. Perhaps you should go for a flight, little one, there's some nice wind here. Oh- are you hurt?"   
  
Quicksilver crawled out of the mess of bedding, looking even more rumpled up than before. Giving himself a little shake, he got his armor settled down a bit, though his wings were still crooked. "I'm fine." he squeaked, rubbing his helm in one spot but looking unhurt. "D-does that h-happen often?!"   
  
"No, not really... though it has happened before, enough for me to get a bit of practice. That's why we're both fine as opposed to being all beat up." Streak climbed down and sat back down in his chair, spinning it around to face Quicksilver. "Okay- Quicksilver, I'm going to be honest. I need some private time. Would you mind just flying around for a while or exploring and leaving me here?" he requested, doing his best to act casual and not blush. Linking his servos in front of himself, he offered them to Quicksilver, tilting his helm towards the still-open hatch on the ceiling. "The main door is probably blocked, so that door up there is your best bet. Here- I'll give you a boost."   
  
"Okay, sure..." Quicksilver blinked at him, looking confused for a second, then caught on and moved a bit closer. Stepping in Streak's cupped servos, he grabbed onto the edge of the hatch, climbing out onto the roof. He then hopped off the ship, transformed midair, and flew off into the sky, right past a number of large flying creatures with gossamer-like wings.  _Woah- big! Probably safe, though... they look all fragile and they're swiping fans at the air. Maybe they eat bugs or something. I doubt they'll try to eat me._  
  
Hmm. Judging by his lack of a reaction, Quicksilver hadn't realized exactly what Streak meant by "private time". Streak had put that too delicately, it seemed. Oh well... there was no way the blue Seeker was going to correct him. Now... where had he put that box?  
  
  
  
Some time later, Quicksilver dove out of the sky at high speed, transforming and landing hard on the roof. No, the gossamer-creatures weren't chasing him, they'd turned out to be perfectly harmless. Something else was trying to get him, something silver and reptilian and much larger than him, and it was currently gliding in wide circles as it tried to get down to him without diving and risking a crash. Quicksilver had flown too close to the creature's cliff, and it had responded by calling several times and then flying after him. At the moment, Quicksilver didn't know if it was being territorial, if it wanted to eat him... or maybe if it wanted to mate with him. It kept flaring a red frill on its head in some kind of display, so... he really didn't want to stick around and find out. Wings clapped to his back, the tiny mech dove through the hatch to land on the floor- then froze up at what he'd accidentally jumped into. EEEP-   
  
Streak was leaned back in his chair, back arched, vents whirring loudly, one servo tightly gripping the arm of his chair.   
  
For a second, it looked to Quicksilver like something was wrong with Streak- until he noticed that a certain box was open on the floor near the chair. The tiny Seeker stayed frozen for a second, then covered the length of the ship in about half a second and vanished into the pile of blankets. "NO TIME, FLY!" he squealed, then just hid in his blanket heap, squeaking in embarrassment at what he'd inadvertently walked in on. "EEEH-"   
  
Streak fell out of his chair, hopped up, spotted the creature through the still-open hatch, and jumped up to pull the hatch shut.   
  
A few minutes later, they'd outdistanced the creature, the autopilot was on, the ship was slowly flying over a broad ocean, and Streak had vanished into the shower.  
Quicksilver got up, taking several blankets with him, and skittered away from the showers. He ended up in the opposite side of the ship, tucked under a segment of the control panel in an effort to hide. His audios were covered, also, juuust in case. He didn't really want to know.   
  
After a few more minutes, Streak stepped out of the shower area, running a towel down one leg. Apparently he'd just taken a quick shower. Spotting the bundle of blankets under the shower stall, he slowly approached Quicksilver's little panic-ball, kneeling a short distance away from him and looking apologetic. "Quicksilver, I'm so sorry... I should have specified what kind of 'private time' I meant, I suppose. Believe me, I did NOT want that to happen... I'm sorry. Are you okay?"   
  
Quicksilver peeked out of the bundle of blankets, then whined a bit and hid again, his ventilation system whirring slightly in what sounded like a mild version of hyperventilation. He didn't entirely sound okay... and he did have a bit of a reason to be freaked out. Much to his distress, his interface systems had responded slightly, and he was just waiting for the reaction to stop...  
  
"No? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you... I had to take care of a certain need, and there wasn't really too much I could do aside from what you walked in on." Streak sighed, then smiled just a bit, attempting to find something that might be positive. "Well... at least you know I'm not going to go after you in order to satisfy that urge, right?"   
  
Quicksilver squeaked slightly, then nodded just a bit, agreeing with him. That actually made sense... if Streak would get rid of that little 'problem' himself instead of going after Quicksilver, then Quicksilver might actually be truly safe with Streak. But he was still scared... he still had a problem.   
  
Streak blinked, tilting his helm, then caught on when he noticed the distinctive little rumbling noises from Quicksilver's engines. Was that why he was so scared? "Oh... Quicksilver, are you hiding because you're afraid of something other than me? Please, little one... you can tell me, I promise."   
  
"Mmmhh..." Quicksilver whined, hiding his faceplates again and doing his best to hide. But... h-he couldn't get to the showers with Streak there, not without the other Seeker noticing... and he really wanted to get in there and make this stop... fine. Whimpering softly in distress, he nodded, then uncurled a touch and tried to inch towards Streak. "I... I w-want a s-shower..." he whispered, his wings trembling, not daring to look up at the other Seeker as his vents kicked up a notch.   
  
"Easy, little one..." Streak soothed, backing up and moving out of the way. "It's okay, Quicksilver... that's a natural enough reaction, nothing to be ashamed of. And... I'm not mad, if you're worried about that. Here, you can go and take a cold shower. It's okay, sweetie, I promise... that reaction is nothing to be afraid of. It's not going to lead to anything bad, not here."     
  
Quicksilver crawled out of his nest and bolted for the showers, slamming the door even though it didn't stay closed. He immediately turned the shower on, gasping softly as the cold liquid hit him, then whined softly in distress and quivered his wings. "Mmmh..."   
No matter what Streak said, he was still going to be scared... he didn't  _want_  any kind of reaction like that!  
  
Hmm... Streak needed to get Quicksilver calmed down, it seemed. Though he honestly would have liked to avoid Quicksilver a bit, to get away from the awkward, he needed to get the teeny thing relaxed. Walking over to a cabinet, he put the first box away in the back, then tugged out a small black box. "Quicksilver, once you've taken care of that, I have a little treat I think you'll like... just come out here and find somewhere you're comfortable with, will you?"   
  
Quicksilver stayed in the shower for a few minutes, until he'd gotten his interface systems fully shut off. Drying himself off, he reluctantly stepped out of the shower, slinking over to the berth area to hide. "W-what d-do you h-have?" he squeaked, shyly glancing out at Streak before hiding again.   
  
"Here, sweetie." Streak hummed, walking over and sitting down on the edge of the pad. "I have some energon candy stored on the ship with me... actually, quite a lot of it. Would you like some?" he offered, pulling out a piece of stick candy and offering it to the little mech. "Here- just suck on that for a little while. Tastes lovely, and it's best if you eat it slowly."   
  
The tiny mech blinked and whined, then slowly reached out and took the candy, inspecting it for a second or two. Curious, he lightly sucked on the end of it for a second, then perked his wings up slightly at the taste. Oh, yum.   
  
Streak smiled at the wing perk, then selected a piece for himself, setting the box aside. Humming softly, he sucked on the candy for a minute or two, then scooted a little bit closer to Quicksilver and made a choice. "Quicksilver, I have an offer for you. This is the only time I'm going to mention it, little one, and I won't even offer if you don't want me to. It... relates to the sort of thing you're scared of. May I offer?"   
  
Quicksilver retreated into the corner, then nodded a tiny bit, now hiding enough that only his optics were visible. "Mmmh... o-okay." he squeaked, deciding to just accept so he knew what Streak was talking about. He needed to find out or he was going to be nervous and unsure until he did.  
  
Streak kept his voice calm and gentle, meeting Quicksilver's optics and twitching his wings in an inviting manner, though he kept the gesture toned down and calm. No need to make the sweet thing think Streak was overeager. "If you ever decide you'd like to be intimate with someone who's not going to hurt you, I'm willing. I'm not going to suggest that you let me top, I know I'd just scare you. However, I'm quite willing to let you top... in fact, I'd be happy to submit to you as much as you'd like. And... if you happen to decide that you'd like to try it, I have no problems with being tied up. I'm fine with most things that don't involve someone being injured, really..." he offered, then blinked awkwardly and glanced away, biting his lip. "Ah- that's my offer. I'm not asking for any kind of choice now, just... if you ever decide you'd like something like that... I'm quite willing. I won't hurt you, little one, in fact I'll do my best to make you feel good, should you choose to let me."   
  
Quicksilver squeaked and tucked back into the blankets, hiding his optics, then peeked out at him again. "Mmmh... I, uh... I-I'll t-think ab-bout t-that..." he decided, then started sucking on the candy again, blushing slightly but (to his own surprise) actually okay with that offer. It wasn't a frightening offer... just somewhat confusing. Streak... was offering to submit to  _him?_  Why?   
Maybe he just enjoyed that... though Quicksilver couldn't imagine someone willingly letting someone else dominate them without at least a scuffle. Why would anyone do that? It just invited pain... well, maybe it was a bit safer for those who could actually fight. Yeah, that made sense... it was probably safer if you could stop others from hurting you.  
  
"There. That's the last time I'll make that offer, little one..." Streak hummed, then scooted over and leaned against the wall somewhat near Quicksilver, hoping to coax him to come out of the blankets by just calmly offering his presence. "You okay, sweetie?"   
  
"Mhm. 'M okay." the teeny mech mumbled, then inched a tiny bit closer and leaned against the wall near Streak, looking up at the larger mech and trying to decide if he wanted to ask. Nervously glancing away, he bit his lip, then stuck the candy in his mouth and sucked a couple more times in an effort to calm down. Yes... he wanted to ask. "S-Streak? W-why w-would you... s-submit? I... I d-don't k-know h-how to d-do m-much... I d-don't t-think you'd l-like w-what I could m-manage. A-and you're b-bigger than m-me..." he asked softly, huddling into himself and looking nervous again.  
  
Streak looked down at Quicksilver, then slowly put an arm around him, pausing for a moment to make sure he wasn't scaring the smaller mech. When he didn't see any added fear, he began to talk, resisting the urge to pull Quicksilver into his lap. "Well, little one... I can't ask you to let me top. Even if you decided to let me, you'd be huddled up in a scared little ball... I'd probably end up accidentally hurting you with how tense I suspect you'd be. I would like to show you that you don't need to be afraid, I'd love to show you how good it can feel to trust someone enough to let them top, but I know there isn't any way that's going to happen anywhere NEAR soon. However, I'm pretty sure you'd be calmer if I let you top. I know from past experience that I don't have a preference about topping or not, I enjoy both."   
The little blue mech paused for a moment, making sure Quicksilver was still okay with listening to him talk about this particular subject, then continued. "I had a feeling you aren't experienced. That's alright, little one... I could teach you a few things, if you chose to let me. We'd both enjoy ourselves anyway... that tends to happen when both mechs involved are fully consenting. And, as for size difference... there isn't too much difference, so I don't think it would matter overly much. Don't worry, little one... we'd both end up feeling nice."   
Streak paused again, looking down once more, then blinked in surprise when he saw that Quicksilver was meeting his optics and actually looked fine. "Well... I have to say, I'm surprised." he remarked, gently touching Quicksilver's cheek in a spot that was now showing a faint blush. "Aside from this, you seem to be fine with what I'm talking about."   
  
Quicksilver nodded a tiny bit, glancing down and sucking on the piece of candy again. "I... y-yeah, k-kind of. I m-mean... y-you s-sound like y-you w-want me to... to f-feel n-nice... w-what you're t-talking about, i-it d-doesn't sound t-that bad. Actually... i-it sounds l-like it m-might b-be nice, I g-guess... he mumbled, then tucked into himself a bit more, shy. "Mmh... I... I d-don't k-know if I w-want t-to- n-no, I d-don't- b-but... I..."   
Though the indecision had him a bit worked up, Quicksilver still wasn't truly scared... the way Streak was talking probably helped. He wasn't speaking explicitly, he wasn't making suggestions, and he was keeping his voice gentle. By the way Streak was talking, they could have been discussing massage technique or something equally innocent.   
  
"Aw..." Streak hummed, gently squeezing Quicksilver's little frame with one arm. "You don't need to choose now, or any time soon... that was just an offer for if you ever want someone you can be intimate with. If you decide to accept it, I promise I'll be very gentle with you, and I'll let you go as slow as you want. Also... you can always say 'no' to me. Whatever's going on, you can tell me to stop, and I promise I'll stop. With me, Quicksilver, there will  _never_  be a point where it's too late to say no." he whispered, leaning down to gently nuzzle Quicksilver's helm.   
  
Quicksilver shivered, then nodded slightly and leaned into the larger frame, offering a tiny smile. "T-thank you." he whispered, glancing up at Streak as he resumed sucking on the candy stick. "Y-you're s-sweet." the tiny mech squeaked, very softly, his optics wide and shy as he said it.    
  
Streak very softly rumbled his engines in a gesture of affection, a noise resembling a purr. "Thank you, little one." he whispered, doing his best to hide the fact that he wanted to grin hugely. Maybe his attempts at courtship were working? At the very least, he'd managed to get Quicksilver to feel reasonably safe around him... apparently it was a good choice to let Quicksilver decide to approach him for recharge cuddles instead of Streak asking. This was what Streak wanted... Quicksilver, calm and trusting and unafraid of him. "Mmm... glad to have you this calm, Quicksilver. I'm surprised, but I'm happy about it. You're a sweet little mech, you deserve to feel safe." he purred, sucking gently on his piece of candy for a minute or two.   
"Hmm... trade?" he requested, offering the candy to Quicksilver, having decided that he wasn't a huge fan of this particular flavor.   
  
Quicksilver accepted the trade, sucking on the candy without much thought, then blinked when he realized that part of the taste was from Streak. Huh. That actually tasted kind of interesting...   
  
Streak resisted the urge to make a comment about Quicksilver being a good addition to the candy, knowing the sweet little mech would probably be frightened by it. No, he didn't want to scare the little one away... though he did taste nice. And, of course, now he wanted to kiss Quicksilver and taste a bit more of that... no. He was going to resist that urge. He would NOT kiss Quicksilver, not on the mouth at least... maybe kiss the top of his helm, that was innocent enough, but he wasn't going to do anything much further. A kiss on the cheek might be okay if Quicksilver seemed open to that sort of attention, but Streak would leave anything further up to Quicksilver to initiate.   
  
Quicksilver glanced up at Streak, then slowly leaned up and lightly nudged his cheek against Streak's. He immediately tucked down into himself, though, slightly alarmed by his own boldness in offering affection. "Eeep."   
  
Streak blinked, then smiled down at him, gently squeezing the little mech with one arm. "Cutie." he mumbled, resisting the urge to lean down and return the gesture- maybe more. "You're sweet..." the small mech crooned, then somewhat reluctantly stood up, moving over towards the controls for his ship. "We should leave in case there are more of those things. We can cuddle more when we're out of atmosphere, okay?"   
  
Quicksilver nodded, then tucked down into himself, watching Streak turn off the auto-pilot. Sucking on his candy, he let his optics follow the larger mech around, as he'd done many times before. There wasn't much to do in here aside from watch each other. And... Quicksilver had noticed something. His ship-mate was quite attractive. Streak, though a bit undersized for a Seeker, had the typical lanky frame and pretty wings. Also, the light blue mech kept himself clean and reasonably well polished. His wings were usually perked in a fairly confident manner, but nothing about him was challenging or aggressive... just calm and reasonably self-assured. Streak was always very gentle, those optics were soft and caring, and the sweet little smiles he gave Quicksilver...   
Yeah... attraction confirmed. Quicksilver actually wanted Streak's attention. Normally he tried to avoid attention at all costs, since it led to bad things, but... he'd established that Streak was a safe person to be around. Maybe... maybe it was okay to try and get Streak's attention, just a little bit? Yeah, that was worth a try.   
But... how could he do that? What was a good, safe way to do this? From what he'd seen, Seeker attention-getting tactics usually meant slinking up to someone and more or less rubbing all over them. But... that wasn't what Quicksilver wanted, he was hoping for a relationship that didn't involve the kind of intimacy most Seekers liked. Seekers liked attention, they liked adoration, and they tended to be horny. Well- the un-traumatized ones tended to act like that. Streak was apparently an exception.   
Quicksilver didn't want that. Attention might be nice, but he didn't want that sort of attention. Instead, maybe... maybe he could hint at the type of affection he wanted? Maybe he'd try just leaning on Streak or something... a very toned-down version of what he usually saw could possibly work.   
Later. He was going to think for now.


	6. Safe place here, sweetspark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's at least a month and a half later. Quicksilver decides he isn't afraid of Streak any more.   
> His instincts, on the other servo, need some more convincing.

Quicksilver ended up thinking about his potential flirting ideas for a few days, mostly keeping to himself during that time. While this was going on, some part of the ship had begun to misbehave slightly, something to do with a thruster that was out of position.   
Due to this, Streak had landed the ship on the first available planet, which was really more of a large moon. It seemed uninhabited, most likely due to unusually thick atmosphere that combined with harsh winds to whip up large sandstorms on a daily basis. Streak had landed the ship just long enough to fix the thruster, then they'd taken off again, still following the signal they'd been chasing for the past month and a half.   
  
Streak made a face, shifting uncomfortably, then flipped the autopilot on and quickly moved into the showers. "Quicksilver, I have sand just about everywhere it is physically possible to have sand. I am going to take a long shower, and I'm going to have to strip completely to get all this sand out. Just letting you know." he hummed, tugging the door shut as much as possible and beginning to remove his armor.   
  
Quicksilver gave a small noise of comprehension, then returned his attention to what he was doing: playing a one-person card game.   
After a little while, he happened to glance up, and... oh, look, Streak was completely visible through the partially open door. Quicksilver instinctively glanced away, then bit his lip and shyly looked over again, noticing that Streak's back was to him. Maybe... maybe it was okay to look? Just at his back, at least... Quicksilver was curious. And, um... yeah, okay, naked Streak was attractive. More than usual. Especially when he aimed the showerhead at his hip area in order to clean the sand off. That caused the smallish mech to shudder as the water trickled over sensitive components, and- okay, Quicksilver should probably stop looking about now. Streak probably wouldn't appreciate him l- OH SLAG STREAK HAD NOTICED.  
Quicksilver squeaked and hid under one of the blankets, huddling into himself and looking embarrassed. Streak was going to be upset, he was sure of it.   
  
Streak blinked, a bit surprised, then raised his voice slightly to get Quicksilver's attention. "Little one, come out of there. I'm not upset... I've been in a few communal showers, I'm fine with someone seeing me naked as long as I know the person in question doesn't have an ulterior motive. Hey... are you curious, Quicksilver?"   
  
Quicksilver shivered, then peeked out, keeping his optics locked on Streak's faceplates instead of looking anywhere else. Shy, he nodded slightly, then bit his lip and glanced away. "I-I'm s-sorry... I-I w-wasn't- I j-just... I-I'm c-curious." he stammered, quivering his wings and looking nervous.   
  
"Here, I'll tell you what..." Streak hummed, turning to face away from Quicksilver. "You give me a minute or two to get clean enough that I can replace my internal armor and still be comfortable, and I'm happy to let you come over here and be curious. Sound nice?" he asked, now gently cleaning the area around his spark chamber with a soft cloth.   
  
"Meep." Quicksilver squeaked, then nodded and glanced back up, relaxing a bit now that Streak was facing away from him again. "I... o-okay..." he mumbled, then tilted his helm, allowing his optics to venture over Streak's frame for a minute or two.   
  
Once his spark chamber and crotch were clean of sand, Streak replaced his inner crotch plating and inner chassis plating, turning to face Quicksilver again. "Alright... here, little one, are you curious enough to come over here?" he asked softly, his posture open and inviting. His body armor was almost completely stripped, aside from the plating that didn't come off, like the plating on his wings and heel-thrusters. This made body language a bit more difficult to read, but he was plainly open and inviting. "I'm willing to let you touch, too... I'm really not shy, and I know you're a sweet mech. I know you aren't going to do anything untoward."   
  
Quicksilver slowly got up, shyly watching him for a moment or two, then crept over and stepped into the shower area. It was meant for one average-sized mech to have a bit of room to move around, so two skinny little mechs could fit reasonably well. The tiny silver mech instinctively twitched back when Streak moved towards him, afraid of being near someone who was minus their outer crotch plating, then he shivered a bit as his wings tapped the wall and he realized he wasn't able to get away.   
  
"Easy, sweetie... I'm not going to hurt you." Streak cooed, then turned around, leaning his front up against the wall and flaring his wings. "Here... you are quite welcome to be curious." he offered, tilting his helm, then flared his wings and winced in discomfort. "Ahh- I do have a request, Quicksilver. I can't reach my back well enough to get rid of the sand, and it's extremely uncomfortable. Would you help me get the sand out, please?" he asked, offering Quicksilver a soft little brush.   
  
Quicksilver watched Streak for a moment, trembling, then relaxed and moved just a bit closer. Taking the brush, he lightly placed a servo on Streak's back, reaching up to aim the showerhead at Streak's wing bases. "I-is t-this o-okay?" he squeaked, not sure if it was okay to touch such sensitive areas of the other's frame. Wing bases were sensitive and not a place to casually touch...  
  
"It's fine, little one, just be gentle. You aren't going to set anything off, don't worry... I wouldn't ask you to do this if I was going to react strongly to it. I might start shuddering, but please don't be alarmed by that, sweetie. It's just a reflex reaction- nnnh." Streak was given the opportunity to demonstrate when Quicksilver's servo moved over a sensor cluster, causing Streak to shudder all over at the feeling. "Ah, you see? Don't worry, that feeling isn't anywhere near as strong as it seems. It's just fairly pleasant, and for some reason it makes me shudder like that."  he explained, looking back at Quicksilver with soft purple optics. "Are you comfortable with doing this?"   
  
Quicksilver paused, looking him over, then nodded slightly and offered a tiny smile. "I... yeah." he decided, relaxing slightly. Judging by his stiff wings, he'd been startled by the shudder, but he was okay. Also, his wings had shifted position... they'd gone from clamped to his back to perked just a bit, the tips just about level with his audio fins. "I... I t-think I'm okay. I m-mean- y-you naked i-isn't that s-scary. A-actually... I k-kind of l-like-" biting his lip, Quicksilver glanced over him again, then squeaked slightly and glanced away. "S-sorry!"   
  
"What... you like what you're seeing?" Streak hummed, flaring his wings and trying to look inviting. "It's okay, Quicksilver... there's nothing wrong with that. I said I'm fine with you looking, and I meant it. Even if you're attracted to me, I'm perfectly comfortable with this... I've never been shy, and you're sweet."   
  
Quicksilver paused, then gently resumed his attempts at cleaning the sand out of Streak's back, surprised by the other mech's acceptance. "W-why are you s-so  _comfortable_  with m-me?" he asked softly, carefully running his claws under a few thick muscle cables to clean the sand out. "I... y-you're almost c-completely n-naked, y-you know I'm at-ttracted to y-you... I... w-why do you look so  _safe?_ " he asked, his voice soft as he shyly met Streak's optics.   
  
"Because I  _am_  safe, little one." Streak hummed, then flittered his wings and turned around, leaning against the wall and looking down at the little mech in front of him. "You aren't going to hurt me, I know that. You aren't some kind of pervert, you're a sweet little mech. And... I'm going to be honest with you. I  _like_  that you find me attractive, Quicksilver. I've... been trying to think of a way to... court you, I suppose. I really didn't want to scare you, which is why I haven't done much, but I do want your attention. And now I have it... I like that." he explained softly, hoping he wasn't about to scare Quicksilver away. "Do you... should I put my armor back on?" the small Seeker asked, tilting his helm and keeping his optics on Quicksilver to make sure he was okay.   
  
Quicksilver shook his helm slightly, glancing down, then slowly moved a bit closer. Unsure, he placed one servo lightly on Streak's side, just lightly touching the muscle cables in a curious gesture. "I-it's okay... I... I-I'm f-fine. But... w-why?" he asked softly, looking up at Streak with confused purplish optics. "You... w-want my attention?" he ventured softly, confused and not quite understanding why Streak wanted him. Quicksilver was small, weak, unable to fight at all... why would anyone want him for anything other than just interface? Because it didn't seem like Streak was hugely interested in that from him. "I-I'm not... I'm n-not much."   
  
Streak looked down at him, then stepped forwards and ever-so-gently put his arms around Quicksilver's frame, just gently holding him. Hopefully the sweet little mech wasn't going to freak out at being touched by him. "Aw... yes you are." he cooed, lightly touching under Quicksilver's chin and coaxing the tiny mech to look up at him. "You're adorable, you're sweet, you have beautiful wings, and I like your little servos... and you're such a sweetspark, you deserve some positive attention. Is that okay, Quicksilver? I don't want to scare you, but if you're okay with it, I'd love to try and court you." the Seeker hummed, very lightly touching Quicksilver's cheek. "If you want me to stop, though, I'll stop. Your choice."   
  
Quicksilver meeped at the hug, huddling down into himself, then relaxed a bit and looked up at Streak with wide optics. He actually felt okay with this current situation... being hugged by a mostly-naked mech was a bit unnerving, honestly, but it was okay given that Quicksilver still had his armor. Trembling, he just listened to Streak for a second, then leaned into the touch on his faceplate. Oh. That... that was... that actually sounded like it might be nice. Streak was doing that thing again, that thing where he spoke gently and looked so utterly harmless... he wasn't scary like this, even taking into account the nakedness. "I, uh... I t-think I l-like t-that idea." he mumbled, though he was still shrinking into himself somewhat. He was shy, unsure, and instinctively frightened of being touched. Quicksilver was NOT going to relax fully when being held like this, not even with Streak doing his "aw, I'm not scary..." thing. It would be possible to get him used to the idea of being touched and held, but it was going to take a while to get him used to more than just massages. "I... j-just... s-slowly." the tiny mech whispered, shuttering his optics and going half-limp in Streak's arms.   
  
"Of course. Like I've said before, you can always say 'no' to me, Quicksilver. I promise, I won't force you into anything you aren't comfortable with." Streak crooned, lightly touching Quicksilver's middle back with his fingertips and rubbing small patterns to calm the sweet thing. "Now... is there any part of me you'd like a better look at? I'll let you touch, if you want. Curiosity is just fine, sweetie."   
  
Quicksilver looked up at him, then stepped back a little bit, not fully pulling away but just wanting to look Streak over. "Um... m-maybe j-just... c-could you l-lay d-down o-or something?" he requested softly, his wings twitching shyly as he watched Streak. Yeah, he was kind of curious... he wanted to inspect the other mech a bit more, if it was okay. Maybe that would let him think about Streak a bit more, too... he wanted to think about how far this relationship could go.   
  
"I'm going to need a few more minutes to get the sand out, there isn't enough room for me to lay down in here. After that, though, I'll dry of and go lay down in our nest, and you can do whatever you'd like." Streak hummed, letting go of Quicksilver and reaching up to grab the showerhead in order to run it over himself a few more times.   
Having managed to get all the noticeable sand out of himself, Streak carefully ran a towel over his armor-less frame, keeping his touch light due to the fact that most of his muscle cables were mildly sensitized due to usually keeping his armor on. Stepping out of the shower, he spread a couple of blankets out flat on the berth pad, then stretched out on his back and offered Quicksilver an encouraging little smile. "Come on... you can look. Don't be shy, little one, it's okay to touch... it's safe."   
  
Quicksilver slowly moved over to him, then sat down next to the larger mech, shyly reaching out with one servo. Cautious, he just lightly touched Streak's abdomen, running his fingertips over the muscle cables for a moment or two. He then slowly ran his fingertips down Streak's leg, ending at his ankle, and began to lightly inspect the area around the thruster.   
  
"See? You can touch, that's fine. I'm just going to take a nap..." Streak hummed, putting one arm behind his helm and shuttering his optics. "Mmm... tell me if you want me to turn over." he mumbled, going limp and just letting Quicksilver do as he wished.   
  
Quicksilver just looked Streak over for a minute or two, occasionally touching whichever spot he was looking at, then bit his lip and slowly moved to sit between Streak's pedes. Tilting his helm, he looked the small mech over, then hesitantly reached forwards with one servo. Streak looked like he was recharging... maybe... yeah, it might be okay to investigate. Very lightly, Quicksilver placed the tips of two claws against the thin plating that protected Streak's interface equipment, marveling somewhat at the fact that Streak apparently felt safe with just this in place. This wasn't something most people would do... at least, not that Quicksilver had seen.   
  
Streak wasn't recharging, not quite yet. He was just relaxing, secretly enjoying the feeling of Quicksilver investigating him. Honestly, the feeling of Quicksilver touching him was rather pleasant... the tiny Seeker was overcoming his fear, it seemed, and that was nice.   
Streak didn't open his optics when he felt the clawtips against his inner plating, he just spoke softly, turning his helm towards Quicksilver. "If you're curious, little one, I'm happy to retract that plating and give you a look... I'm not shy."   
He wasn't all that surprised when Quicksilver squeaked and jerked back. However, the scrambling noise and whimper of pure terror came as a bit of a surprise. Streak opened his optics, sitting up, then gave a small noise of concern and grabbed a blanket. "Quicksilver..."  
  
Apparently the phrasing of that sentence, or maybe something in the tone, had triggered a half-buried memory. Quicksilver was cowering in the corner near the showers, arms over his helm, panting so hard he was making little wheezing noises on every intake. "No no no no- no, please, no- d-don't hurt me!" he wailed, optics shut tightly, doing his best to hide in the corner and get away from everything.   
  
"No, sweetie, no..." Streak crooned, then wrapped a blanket around himself, slowly approaching Quicksilver with another blanket. "Shh, Quicksilver... it's okay, it's okay... it's just me, Streak. You know me, you know I won't hurt you... what's wrong?" he asked softly, holding the blanket out in Quicksilver's direction. "Quicksilver?"   
  
"Nnnh..." Quicksilver whined, shaking all over, optics wide and unseeing as he stared up at Streak. He was  _terrified_ , but not of Streak... at least, his optics weren't focused on Streak. They weren't focused on anything.   
  
"Oh... I'm sorry, sweetie, did I trigger something?" Streak whispered, then sighed and moved closer, his optics on the tiny mech in the corner. Well... he had one idea for how to calm Quicksilver down. Hopefully it wouldn't just scare him even more.   
  
Gently tossing the blanket over Quicksilver, he squirmed his way between the tiny mech and the wall, ending up with the blanket wrapped around Quicksilver. Very gently pulling the small thing into his lap, he nuzzled the top of Quicksilver's helm, making sure that the blanket stayed between Quicksilver and himself at all times.   
  
Quicksilver yelped and fought, flailing blindly for a moment, then whimpered and huddled into himself. "No... please." he begged, curling into himself as much as possible and trying to hide. He wasn't hearing Streak, he didn't know what he was fighting- the tiny mech was completely overcome by fear. He didn't even know WHAT he was fighting, he just knew he needed to get away.   
  
"Shh, little one, shh..." Streak crooned, very gently gathering the small mech into his lap again. Tugging the blanket up, he wrapped it around pretty much all of Quicksilver's frame, then just went still and held the small mech. Rubbing his fingers over Quicksilver's plating through the blanket, he nuzzled the tiny mech's helm, then placed a soft kiss on one elfin audio fin. "It's okay, Quicksilver, it's okay. You're safe here, remember? This is my ship. You're safe. Close your optics, little one, and listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you, sweetie... nobody's going to hurt you like that. You're safe."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered and hid his faceplates in Streak's neck, still anticipating pain. But... nothing was hurting him. There was soft material around him, the mech against him wasn't holding him down, wasn't tearing at his armor... the only touches were gentle pets on his back and the nuzzles to his helm. And... someone was talking to him... someone gentle.   
Gradually, the pants of fear began to ebb away. Quicksilver shuttered his optics for a few minutes, panting, then leaned back a tiny bit and looked up at Streak. Oh. He knew those soft purple optics... he knew this mech. This was Streak... Streak was good, Streak was  _safe_.   
Squirming a little bit, he turned to fully face the larger mech, then worked his arms free and tightly hugged the other mech.   
  
"Hi, sweetie..." Streak cooed, gently sliding a servo under the blanket to rub between those pretty wings. "Shh... it's okay. I'm so sorry, little one... I didn't mean to frighten you like that. I thought maybe you wanted me to retract that plating, but I knew I should ask... I'm sorry, did I phrase my offer badly? I just meant that I'd be willing to let you look, if you wanted. Are you okay?"   
  
"Mmmh..." Quicksilver whimpered, biting his lip, then nodded and went limp again. "I... I t-think I-I'm o-okay... I-I'm s-sorry, i-it wasn't y-you... I j-just... I-I don't know..."   
  
"It's okay, Quicksilver. You don't need to apologize... you were scared, that's okay. Looked a bit like you had some kind of a flashback, little one. You don't need to apologize for that... here, is it okay if I move this blanket a bit? I'm going to keep it over my lap, but I'd like to have you directly touching me right now. I think it might help. Would that be okay?" Streak asked, looking down at him and doing his best to be soothing.   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly, shifting a bit to make it easier to move the blanket. When the blanket was lowered enough that it was only around Streak's hips, he pressed himself up against Streak's frame, giving a small noise of pleasure as he felt the softness of the muscle cables against his frame. Oh, that felt nice. Streak was soft and vulnerable right now... Quicksilver could hurt Streak right now, if he wanted, but Streak trusted him not to. Plus, soft muscle cables felt nice against his thin armor. Gently placing both servos on Streak's sides, he gripped the cables there for a moment, then began to slowly knead with both sets of claws in a catlike manner.   
Wait. Why was he doing that? The little Seeker looked down, confused, then looked up and met Streak's optics. "W-what?" he squeaked, not quite understanding why he was doing that.  
  
Streak looked down at his servos, then smiled, relaxing against the nearby wall. "Oh, I've seen this before. It's a gesture you see with some people... it usually means they're feeling comfortable and safe, especially if they've let their mind stop working as fast as it usually does. Basically, it's a sparkling gesture, and it means security." he explained, then tilted his helm and cooed slightly, wings trembling a bit in a gesture of happiness. "Aw... I make you feel safe?"   
  
Quicksilver looked down at his servos, then nodded slightly, leaning into Streak's frame. "Mmh... y-yeah." he whispered, tucking his pedes up against himself so that he was curled into a tiny ball in Streak's lap. "Y-you're r-really s-sweet, a-and nice, and you w-won't hurt me. I l-like you..."  
  
Streak picked up another blanket, wrapping it around both of them, then nuzzled those cute little audio fins again. "I'm glad to hear it, sweetie. Just relax and hug me for a little while, I'm happy to do this. Now... may I pet your wings? Just little strokes, like what I did when I was getting the thorns out. I think it'll help you relax, and... to be perfectly honest, I just want to. Your wings are pretty."   
  
Quicksilver blinked at him, then nodded, leaning into the other mech's frame and spreading his wings. Perking his wings up, he slowly raised them until they were a bit over audio level, keeping them perked higher than they'd been in a long time.   
  
Streak tucked the outer blanket around them both, keeping Quicksilver's wings, then began to gently stroke the leading edges of those pretty wings. He was careful not to apply too much pressure or pluck at anything, not wanting this to go beyond the feeling of a massage. "How does this feel, sweetie?"   
  
"Mmmmh..." Quicksilver shuddered his wings against the touch, then crooned softly and arched up into Streak's servos. "G-good... m-more." he whispered, now essentially kneeling in Streak's lap and trying to press into the stroking. Oh, mmm... more of that, please, more. He wanted more petting, to soothe away the last of his fear.   
  
"Easy... relax." Streak purred, applying a bit more pressure with the palms of his servos so Quicksilver didn't have to arch up like that. He needed to be careful, though... a Seeker's wings were very sensitive, in order to pick up information about the air around them in flight. Not only did that mean he had to be careful not to cause pain, he had to make sure he didn't end up tipping this pleasure from an innocent niceness into something much less innocent. He'd avoid the flaps at the trailing edges of Quicksilver's wings, those tended to be very sensitive around the joints, and he wouldn't touch Quicksilver's wing bases. The leading edges of the wings tended to be less sensitive, as those were the areas where the full force of the air hit as their owner flew, so this was generally a good place to pet if one was just aiming to make their owner feel nice.   
  
Quicksilver shivered and essentially just melted, sprawling happily against Streak as his wings were stroked. Why hadn't he asked for more of this after the thorn thing? It felt so good...   
Maybe he should return it. Cautiously, the small mech reached around Streak's frame, reaching up to stroke along the leading edges of the larger mech's wings. He wasn't sure exactly what to do here, really, but just plain stroking ought to be enough... right?  
  
Streak gave a little sighing noise, closing his optics for a moment and pressing his wings into the touch. "Mmm... little bit higher up, sweetie- ah, yes, that's it. That's lovely, Quicksilver, thank you." he whispered, continuing to gently stroke Quicksilver's wings, occasionally stroking his palms lightly along the tips.   
  
The two mechs stayed like that for quite a while, both petting each other's wings, each offering the other innocent pleasure. They continued until Quicksilver's sparkbeat finally lowered to normal, until he calmed enough that he simply slipped off into recharge, still melted against Streak. Apparently his panic attack had worn him out.  
  
Quicksilver wasn't afraid any more.   
He was safe.  
Not only was he safe, Streak was giving him attention... GOOD attention.  
This was a good situation, a safe situation. This was his safe place now... here, in Streak's arms.   
  
Streak purred his engines as he felt Quicksilver still kneading his claws, then leaned down and kissed the top of Quicksilver's helm, then turned the little mech's helm just a bit and very lightly nuzzled against his cheek.   
His cute little shipmate wasn't afraid of him any more, and the little one was even accepting physical attention from him. "Rest, little one... I'll give you more attention when you wake up."


	7. There, that's better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver usually looks like he's been attacked by an angry bramble bush dipped in paint remover. Streak would like to fix that.

Streak woke up with an idea.   
Little Quicksilver had scratches and scuff marks all over his paintjob, as well as patches where the metal metal underneath showed through. Also, patches of the wrong color were visible in a few spots... red and black, mostly. It looked like he hadn't had a repaint in a very long time. Now, Streak didn't have paint in the shade of dull silver that Quicksilver apparently used to have, but he did have the light silver visible in spots on his own frame. Also, he had some black, as he would sometimes add small black accents to his own frame.   
It was a simple enough matter to mix a mostly-full can of silver with a bit of black, which darkened the silver down to the soft color of Quicksilver's namesake. He also located a can of paint remover and a buffer with a few different attachments, one of which was rough enough to remove that Decepticon symbol on Quicksilver's wing. There, this was what he needed... "Quicksilver? Wake up... I have something I think you'll enjoy."   
  
"Meeeh..." Quicksilver stood up, looking dazed, and staggered sideways at a slight towards-the-wall pull from a planet's gravity. He then staggered off in the other direction and flopped into Streak's pilot chair, accidentally providing Streak with a somewhat tempting view. The tiny Seeker was sprawled on his front, arms draped over the back of the chair, legs spread, wings flared haphazardly and quivering a little bit as he tried to catch his balance. He looked rather sleepy, so apparently he hadn't quite been awake when he'd stood up, and the overall effect was quite attractive. At least, if you asked his shipmate. "Streak?"   
  
 _Okay, I'm going to file that away under potential positions to try if he's ever interested._  Streak decided, then averted his optics and looked down at the can of paint, giving it a little stir.  _Don't stare. He won't take that as a compliment, he'll just be afraid._  he scolded himself, trying to come up with something that he could politely stare at instead of looking at the cute little mech sprawled in his chair. That was really more enticing than it ought to be. No, no- no staring for him. If Quicksilver accepted Streak's courtship offer, and it seemed like he might, then maybe it would be okay... if the little mech didn't mind being watched.   
  
Quicksilver removed himself from the chair (to Streak's mild disappointment) and stood up, straightening his wings and turning to face Streak. "Did you say something?" he squeaked, still looking a bit dazed.   
  
"Sorry... did I startle you?" Streak asked, smiling slightly at the little mech and his dazed look. It was okay to be amused by this little guy and his cuteness, Quicksilver wasn't likely to care. "I just meant to wake you. Are you awake now, sweetie?"   
  
"Mhm." Quicksilver hummed, blinking, then moved a bit closer and tilted his helm slightly. Paint? "W-what's that for? Do you want me to help you w-with a repaint or something?" he asked, reaching down to pick up a paintbrush.   
  
"No, actually, it's the other way around." Streak explained, gently taking Quicksilver's servo and leading him over to the shower. "I'll be honest; you look like your paint is edible and you've been living in a closet with several hungry glitch-mice. If you're willing to let me touch you that much, I'd like to get all of that stripped off and replace it with something that looks nicer. Here, do you like this color?" he asked, showing Quicksilver the can of silver paint. "I thought I'd make this the main color, and maybe add some black markings. Does that sound good to you?"   
  
Quicksilver blinked, a bit surprised, then nodded slightly and offered him a shy little smile. "Oh... o-okay, sure! That... sure, that sounds nice. Just... b-back off if I tell you, okay?" he requested, then looked down at their servos. "U-uh..."   
  
"Of course. Ah- sorry..." Streak let go of his servo, glancing away for a second, then picked up a can of paint remover and a couple of rags. "Here... we have to get the old paint off first, or this is just going to be a patch job. My paint is in pretty good shape, but I'm pretty sure this paint remover is going to strip the paint off my servos. Would you mind replacing that when we're done with this?" he requested, dipping the cloth in the paint remover and gently taking Quicksilver's arm in one servo. "This stuff tingles quite a lot. It stings if you run it over a reasonably fresh wound, so tell me if that happens... I'll be able to shut that reaction down, but only if I know it's happened.  
  
"Sure..." Quicksilver looked up at him, then smiled slightly, flaring his armor and offering himself to Streak as much as his instincts would allow. Oh, okay... that tingling actually felt sort of nice, and the gentle rubbing wasn't bad at all. Oh, this could feel nice...   
  
"Just relax, little one." Streak crooned, resisting the urge to pet those pretty wings. No, no... he'd have an excuse in a few minutes, if Quicksilver allowed it. "Now... you tell me if you're uncomfortable, Quicksilver. I'm going to start with your arms, then I think I'll move to your chassis and back. I'll also get your lower legs cleaned off, but you can do your upper legs and hips yourself. Would you be okay with me stripping the paint off your wings, little one? We can skip that, if we must, but the new paint won't be smooth if we do. It's your choice, and I suggest you wait to choose until we get to that point, to see how nervous you're feeling about this." he soothed, gently dabbing the paint remover down Quicksilver's arm.   
  
Quicksilver relaxed into Streak's touch, enjoying the gentle petting on his arm. Oh, mmm... this did feel nice, even with the odd tingling from the paint remover. He stayed calm and happy for quite a while, obediently flaring his armor out in whichever area was needed, not frightened by the semi-petting from the larger Seeker. Experience had soothed away his fear of Streak, and though he was still highly nervous about being touched, he was starting to enjoy this. Actually, he was enjoying this more than he'd expected... much more. In fact-   
  
Streak blinked in surprise as Quicksilver suddenly leaned fully into him, then carefully put one arm around the small mech, not quite certain what was going on. "Quicksilver? Is... something wrong?" he asked, turning the shower on for a moment to rinse away the paint remover so he could hug Quicksilver.   
  
"I... I d-don't know." Quicksilver squeaked, quivering slightly and hunching down into himself. "I j-just... I w-want you t-to h-hold m-me... I-I'm sorry, I don't-" he whined, wings lowering once more and clamping down to his back. He was SCARED, really. The little mech didn't understand why he wanted to be held. It wasn't just wanting, either, he felt like he  _needed_  to be held. "S-Streak... I d-don't understand."   
  
"Aw, sweetie... easy, little one, don't be frightened." Streak soothed, gently stroking one servo up the leading edge of Quicksilver's wing in order to (hopefully) calm him. "I think I might know what's wrong... you haven't had much  _good_  attention, have you? You're probably touch-starved. Know what that means?"   
  
Quicksilver shook his helm, blinking up at him and looking confused. "N-no... I m-mean, I can g-guess, b-but..." he stammered, twitching his wings and perking them just a fraction. Streak was reacting well to this... maybe he was okay.   
  
"Easy, sweetie. I'm happy to explain, just relax. It's nothing you need to be upset about... as you know, Cybertronians are are social creatures. Without enough positive contact and social interaction, people can end up touch-starved. Apparently, when combined with abuse, it leads to what we have here. Touch-starvation is a need for positive contact, essentially, like what we have here. My guess is your instincts finally relaxed enough for you to want contact instead of just being afraid. Don't worry, sweetie... I'm happy to oblige you. Though, given the fact that you're this nervous, perhaps we should finish your repaint so you can calm down. Does that sound good?"   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly, then relaxed as much as possible and just went still, offering himself to Streak again. "Mmm... okay. T-this feels kinda nice."  
Quicksilver calmed down fairly quickly, especially since Streak went back to just petting his arm for a moment or two, and he stayed quite relaxed as his chassis and upper-to-middle back were cleaned. His abdomen was mostly exposed muscle cables, which weren't typically painted, and that was helpful- Quicksilver was most likely ticklish.   
  
Streak folded a small seat out of its spot on the wall, then gently touched Quicksilver's shoulder, coaxing him to sit down. "There's not much paint left on your lower legs, but we might as well strip them anyway. Are you alright with that?"   
  
Quicksilver sat down on the offered seat, regarding Streak for a moment, then nodded slightly and offered him a tiny smile. "Mhm... sure. Just... c-careful? M-my thrusters are a bit s-sensitive."   
  
"Of course." Streak hummed, sitting down in front of Quicksilver and draping a folded towel over his knee. Gently tugging the smaller being's pedes up to rest on his knee, he began to clean away the little bit of paint that remained, saving the thrusters for last to be sure Quicksilver was calm enough. "Alright. Now... you tell me if I need to stop, little one. I'll stop if your thrusters are too sensitive, but I think I'd like to try to get these cleaned off. Okay?" he asked, only continuing after he'd gotten a little nod in return.   
That was why Seekers tended to have 'high heel' pedes, that was where their thrusters usually ended up in root mode. They did tend to be a bit sensitive, partially so their owners could carefully control how much thrust they were using, but that sensitivity was often used in... other ways.   
Streak began to hum a soft little tune, carefully cleaning the paint away from one thruster, then smiled when Quicksilver didn't pull away. "Not too sensitive, then?" he hummed, shifting to the other pede. This time, though, his servo slipped a bit and he accidentally prodded a spot near the spot where Quicksilver's thruster joined the rest of his pede.   
  
Quicksilver gave a squeaky little laugh, tugging his pede away, then blinked and slowly gave his pede back. "Uh... t-that's n-not the kind of sensitive I think you mean..." he mumbled, gently tapping his pede against Streak's servo. "Y-you can keep g-going. I'm fine."   
  
Streak froze at the tug, letting go, then relaxed and resumed the gentle cleaning. "Oh, okay. You ticklish, huh?" he chuckled, offering a little smile that might have been just a bit mischievous. "You open to playing with that a bit? I'm not going to hold you down and tickle you, I know you wouldn't like that, but... I think I'd like to see you laugh."   
  
Quicksilver flexed his ankle slightly, then smiled at him, just a bit. "I... o-okay. That f-feels kinda nice, I guess..." he decided, relaxing a bit against the wall. Ticklish pedes? Huh, he didn't really know that. And.. it wasn't like it hurt. Would it be fun to be tickled? He wasn't really sure, but so far, Streak had only suggested things that ended up being nice... since it was just his pedes, he'd test this out.   
  
Streak finished cleaning the paint off and sat back, looking Quicksilver over. He'd stripped the paint from everywhere but Quicksilver's wings, upper legs, helm, and hip area, exposing the bare metal and also a large number of scars. The small mech looked Quicksilver over for a moment, then sighed softly, his optics holding just a bit of sadness. "If you'd like, Quicksilver, I have a high-powered buffer that can smooth most of those scars out..." he offered, reaching to lightly touch a mark on Quicksilver's lower leg. "It doesn't hurt... scars don't have nerve fibers, especially if they were caused by leaving something to heal on its own- which I'm guessing is what happened with most of these. I can get your armor all nice and smooth, if you'll let me spend a bit more time touching you than we need for just the repaint. I think you'd like that... people tend to feel better if they look nice. Plus... I know I'm enjoying this. You're relaxing quite a lot, sweetie, and I like it. Though... right now, should we play a little bit?" he asked, flaring his armor slightly and tilting his helm in an inviting manner. "I'm ticklish, too... there's a few spots. You have to find them, though, I won't tell you." the small mech hummed, turning the shower on Quicksilver for a moment, then turned it off and took Quicksilver's leg in one servo. Quicksilver wasn't looking nervous, he wasn't squirming, he wasn't trying to pull away... maybe it was okay to initiate some harmless play? Picking up a small paintbrush, he probed it lightly into a joint in the bottom of Quicksilver's pede, looking for that ticklish spot.   
  
Quicksilver yelped and squirmed around, though it wasn't a negative response, just him squirming at the tickling. Giggling, he wriggled for a moment, then shoved one pede against Streak's arm until he got loose.  
  
"Quicksilver? You okay? Should I not do that?" Streak asked, not sure if Quicksilver was wiggling because of the tickling or because he wanted to get loose. Tickling itself wasn't aggressive, but forcing someone down and tickling them was basically forcing them to lose control of their entire frame... Streak didn't like that, so Quicksilver would probably like it much less.   
  
The little silver mech watched Streak for a second, then slid off the seat and essentially pounced at him. His claws had been filed down in a previous incident, so- reaching out, he spidered one servo across some of the exposed muscle cables in Streak's midsection, deciding to test that spot.   
  
Oh- okay, that wasn't a negative reaction. Streak had a second to smile at Quicksilver deciding to engage him, then he was caught off guard by the abrupt tickling. Laughing happily, he squirmed under Quicksilver's servos, then wriggled away and caught hold of Quicksilver's pede. "Gotcha."   
  
Quicksilver gave a little meeping noise, then giggled and squirmed away, tucking himself under the seat in order to protect his pedes from Streak's attempts at grabbing them again. Hey, he liked this... he was playing with someone, actually playing without being hurt. Giggling, he reached out and dabbed a servo at Streak, then hid again when Streak tried to catch his servo.   
  
Streak grinned and pounced at Quicksilver, cornering him, then immediately twitched back when he heard a frightened noise from the tiny thing. "Woah- easy, Quicksilver. Sorry. Are you okay?" he asked, resting a servo on the seat to make sure he wasn't squishing Quicksilver.   
  
Quicksilver had been frightened by the pounce and the crowding, and he whimpered again, pressing back into the wall. "I w-want to stop now." he squeaked, optics wide as he stared up at Streak. He wasn't all that scared, he just... he'd been a bit rattled, and now he wasn't so keen on playing around like this.   
  
"Alright. I'm sorry, sweetie." Streak hummed, scooting back and standing up again. "Would you like me to get the rest of the paint off?" he asked softly, flaring his armor out slightly in an inviting manner. He was doing his best to communicate "come here, I'm safe, good things will happen" with his entire frame, trying to offer security and nice things to the sweet mech.   
  
Quicksilver understood that body language. It was difficult to fake friendliness with your entire frame... that was a genuine offer of good things. Crawling out of his hiding spot, Quicksilver slowly approached the other Seeker, then turned around and spread his wings in an inviting manner. "I... g-go ahead." he squeaked, his wings quivering slightly in a slightly nervous manner.   
  
"Here." Streak hummed, gently pressing a paint-remover-soaked rag into Quicksilver's servo. "You work on the parts of you I shouldn't be touching. I'll start on your helm and face, if I may, and we can move to your wings once you're nice and calm."   
  
"G-go ahead." Quicksilver glanced over his shoulder, then reached down and cautiously ran the rag down his outer thigh, testing the feeling of things.   
  
Streak smiled and gently began to strip the paint from the back of Quicksilver's helm, moving to his audio fins after a minute or two. Once done there, he stepped around in front of the smaller mech, gently touching Quicksilver's chin to get him to tilt his head back. "Keep your optics shut, and just relax." he soothed, picking up a clean cloth in case he got any paint remover in Quicksilver's optics. Very gently, he began to clean away the remnants of paint around the sweetie's optics, hoping he wouldn't frighten Quicksilver by touching his faceplates. Some mechs didn't like this.   
  
Quicksilver stayed perfectly still, then opened his optics when he felt the rag move away from them to stroke at the paint on his cheeks instead. Blinking up at Streak, he offered a little smile, then raised a servo and gently placed it on Streak's. "Y-you're sweet. I... I like it when you touch me." he whispered, acting like he was frightened someone might overhear him and decide to hurt him. "I-it feels nice. Y-you always do nice things..."   
  
"Glad you enjoy it... I do try to be a decent mech. I'm glad you like what I've been doing... you've calmed down so much, sweetie, it's lovely." Streak hummed, then leaned down slightly and gently kissed Quicksilver's forehelm, deciding it might be okay to demonstrate affection with a fully awake Quicksilver.   
  
"Meep..." Quicksilver gave a little noise, wings trembling, then smiled and leaned into him slightly. He didn't speak, but he was wearing a silly little smile, oddly delighted by this. He was used to people telling him he was weak, pitiful... good for nothing but fulfilling the whims and desires of others. People did what they wanted and then tossed him off so he could hide again and try to not be found again.   
Streak treated him differently, though. Streak only touched if he was given permission, and he did things that felt nice... and Streak had taken care of  _that_  need himself instead of hurting Quicksilver... this was a safe person. Not only that, this was a mech who gave Quicksilver good attention because he WANTED to do it.   
Streak was good to him, and it was wonderful. It... it felt good to be wanted for reasons that wouldn't hurt him.   
  
"Mmm... you like this attention? Good." Streak hummed, then stepped around behind him, gently touching the edge of one pretty wing. "May I get these cleaned off? It feels very strange, but it isn't bad... and re-painting your wings will feel nice. It's soft and cool and lovely."   
  
Quicksilver flared his wings slightly and quivered them in what he was pretty sure was an inviting manner, though he actually wasn't quite sure. He didn't really know what it felt like to say "come here, it's fine, I like this" with one's frame... he hadn't really done that before. "I... okay, sure. I-if you want..."   
  
Streak blinked at the slightly odd gesture, then lightly touched the leading edges of both wings, coaxing them to perk up and out a bit more. "Here, like this... there we go, sweetie, that's a clearer gesture." he muttered, pleased by the fact that Quicksilver could even  _manage_  to display such an inviting gesture. "Now, just keep your wings as still as you can manage, and maybe work on your hips while I'm doing this?"   
  
Quicksilver nodded and began to gently work at removing the paint from the portions of him that he didn't want touched. Okay...  
  
"Relax..." Streak whispered, then began to gently remove the paint with little strokes, pausing now and then to be sure he wasn't doing anything Quicksilver didn't like. And, okay... honestly, Streak liked this. He was getting to pet those little wings, and it was making Quicksilver feel nice.   
Once finished with that, he moved to kneel in front of Quicksilver, not touching unless he was given permission. The only paint left was on Quicksilver's outer thighs... was that an okay place to touch? "Would you like me to help you with the last of that paint? I'll be gentle, promise."   
  
Quicksilver looked down at him, tensing slightly, then tested the paint remover on one upper leg. Okay, that wasn't sensitive... yeah. "S-sure."   
  
Streak smiled and began to gently clean the plating, resting one servo on Quicksilver's side to keep him still. Once done, he turned the shower on, rinsing the paint remover off Quicksilver's frame. "There we go. Now... let's get your plating all smoothed out, shall we? And... Quicksilver, do you want me to remove that insignia?"   
  
Quicksilver blinked, considering it for a moment, then nodded and offered his wing. "Yes. I... I really just j-joined because I thought it m-might be safer... it w-wasn't." he sighed, hunching into himself a bit more.   
  
"Okay, sweetie. I'll just remove that for you... might be a bit uncomfortable, though, just to warn you." Streak hummed, picking up the buffer. He'd figured this might be the outcome, so the buffer was set up in a way intended to remove large, thick scars from people with heavy armor. Worked on insignias, too. Turning it on, he placed a servo on the inside of Quicksilver's wing, gently holding it in place as he pressed the metal-stripping attachment to the insignia. "Easy..."   
  
Quicksilver tensed, whimpered, and bit his lip. He didn't pull away, though, he wanted that off. Neutrals didn't tend to be favorites of people, but... it was better to have everyone call you a coward then to have one side wanting you dead.   
  
"There." Streak hummed, setting the buffer down, then pressed a damp cloth to the heated spot to cool it down. "May I work on those scars? I'm not going to touch the smaller ones, sweetie, and... I'll leave the more personal spots alone."   
  
Quicksilver gave his consent, spreading his armor, and much to his relief the buffer didn't hurt when used on the scars.   
Since Streak was avoiding the smaller scars, he ended up mostly dealing with marks that looked like they'd been caused by people trying to grab and/or hold onto the small mech. Apparently being gentle was very low on the priority list of the people Quicksilver was usually around.   
  
Reapplying the paint went smoothly. When Streak got to Quicksilver's hips and thighs, he didn't mention it, he just began to gently work on Quicksilver's outer thighs. When the little mech didn't protest or look nervous about that, Streak continued, moving to his inner thighs and then his hips. Much to Streak's surprise, Quicksilver didn't protest that either, not even when Streak moved around behind him to paint the plating on his aft. Streak would have stopped in an instant if he saw any hint that he should do so, but Quicksilver actually seemed to be okay with this.   
Kneeling in front of the tiny mech, Streak looked up at him, wanting to know if it was okay to paint the last spot that wasn't a light silver yet. "Would you be comfortable with me-?"   
  
Quicksilver regarded him for a second, then shook his helm, taking the paintbrush from Streak. "I-I'd rather do it m-myself." he squeaked, though he still didn't look afraid... just a little bit reluctant. He was okay with having Streak paint those spots, as Streak was using a reasonably large brush and could apply the paint quickly enough. The sensation of the paintbrush being calmly slid over plating didn't make Quicksilver nervous... it was a new feeling, yes, but it didn't set off any mental alarms. Not even when it was the plating on his aft... he was okay with that. Streak directly touching him would probably make him nervous, but paintbrushes didn't feel like claws.   
  
Streak pointedly turned away from him to pick up a different can of paint, allowing Quicksilver to finish painting his crotch plating, then glanced over at a can of his shade of blue. "Quicksilver... would it be presumptuous of me to use some of my main color on you? I've heard that it has certain meanings in some areas... things like implying ownership."   
  
"I h-haven't heard that. I g-guess it would be okay t-to use a bit, s-sure." Quicksilver decided, then set the silver brush down, looking down at himself. Huh... that looked nice enough. "I... w-we could leave it l-like this, t-though."   
  
"No... I think I'd like to add a few details, if I may. There's no reason to not have you looking nice, sweetie. I mean, I know there isn't anyone else around to see, and I'm fine with whatever you'd like... but looking nice tends to help people's self-esteem, and to be honest, I think you need that boost. If you want to stop here, that's fine, but... may I continue?" Streak asked, setting a can of black paint and a can of blue paint on the small seat. "Here... I thought I could use these, mostly the black, for a few details. Maybe just some lines? I'd also like to redo that little optic mask you had, that was cute. Your choice, little one."   
  
Quicksilver crept over, picking up the black paint can in one servo, then offered his other servo to Streak. "S-start here? Then I c-can fix your s-servos when it dries." he chirped, offering a little smile and perking his wings.   
  
"Okay, sweetie." Streak hummed, gently taking Quicksilver's servo and dipping a tiny paintbrush into the paint. He stroked a careful little line up each finger, joining them in a small circle on the back of Quicksilver's servo, then grabbed a thicker paintbrush and traced two lines up Quicksilver's lower arm. Switching the paint can to Quicksilver's painted servo, he did the same with the other arm, then added three small marks to each shoulder. After that, he moved to Quicksilver's wings, adding a thick black line to the leading edge of each. Carefully locating a certain few plates, he continued the line on them, so that the line would taper off on the body of Quicksilver's alt mode instead of just stopping at his wing bases. "I've done this before, a few times... I can't guarantee it, since we don't really have enough room for you to transform so I can check, but this should look pretty nice in your alt mode as well."   
Streak skipped most spots on Quicksilver's sides, but he did outline a couple of the silver chassis plates before starting a new line at the top of where Quicksilver's hip joint connected his leg to the rest of him. He applied a gradually tapering line down Quicksilver's leg, ending with a small circle on Quicksilver's ankle joint. He then coupled it with a thinner line, before doing the same on Quicksilver's other side. After a moment of consideration, he stood up again, lightly touching under Quicksilver's chin and getting him to tilt his helm back. "Now... be still. And close your optics, I don't want to get this in them. That's never fun."   
  
Most mechs originally had silver faceplates, as the 'flesh' there was essentially protoform skin. It could be painted, but most mechs used a diluted paint on the sensitive skin, which led to the lighter-colored faceplates usually seen. On Quicksilver, this happened to go rather well with the rest of him, so there was no need to paint his faceplates aside from the markings.   
  
"Now, it shouldn't be a problem, but tell me if this starts feeling uncomfortable. Some people don't really do well with undiluted paint on their faceplates." Streak hummed, beginning to trace around the closed optics. He painted just a bit of each optic lid, leaving just a small bit of silver to interrupt the mask if Quicksilver's optics were closed. This was a very simple mask, not the ornate designs some mechs had around their optics... it was the sort of thin little mask one could get from cutting two holes in a strip of fabric. In Streak's opinion, it was cute.   
He continued the 'mask' design until it vanished behind Quicksilver's audios, then lightly tipped each audio fin with just a little bit of black. Then, starting at the point where the mask left Quicksilver's faceplates, he traced thin lines down to end in two small points that jutted from Quicksilver's jawline up onto his cheeks. "There... cute. Now... I think maybe just a bit of blue..." he mused, setting the black paint down and picking up the blue. Using the smallest paintbrush he had, he traced a thin blue line around the two black points, neatly tapering it off on either side. He then added a line of small blue dots on each audio, following the top edge from the base to the tip. "There we go... cute. Here, I don't have a full-length mirror, but I have a little one... the lines on your servos should be about half-dry, so just move a bit slowly." Streak hummed, offering the mirror to Quicksilver. "What do you think?"   
  
Quicksilver carefully took the mirror, holding it at arm's length in order to inspect himself. He looked himself over for a moment, then offered Streak a cute little smile, definitely pleased. "I... t-that looks nice. Thank you... r-really, thank you."   
  
"Aw, sure, sweetie. You're quite welcome. Oh- I don't expect the paint on those claws to last overly long, but that's fine. I'll repair it if we need to. Speaking of servos- would you mind?" he asked, holding out both servos. "Just the blue is fine, though I think I'm going to dip my claws in the silver."   
  
Quicksilver located a clean rag and gently wiped the damp paint off Streak's servos, then found a brush and began to apply the blue paint. It didn't take him long, especially considering that he was skipping the last joint of each finger. "Here, I... have an idea." he chirped, brushing black paint onto the top and bottom of each of Streak's fingertips. He then added silver on the sides of each finger before glancing up at Streak in a search for approval.   
  
Streak inspected his servos, then smiled at Quicksilver as he waved both servos to help dry them. "Very nice, little one. Good idea." he cooed, then smiled when Quicksilver perked his wings in response. He was going to have to remember that... apparently praise was a good thing. Quicksilver probably hadn't gotten much praise, so... made sense. "This is quick-drying paint, just give it a minute. In fact... your pedes are probably dry, so you should step out of here. It'll go faster in dry air."   
  
A few minutes later, Streak was back in his chair, checking the control panel. "Yep... that's what I thought. This ship is mostly solar-powered, little one, and we aren't near enough to that sun." he explained, pointing to a star that wasn't much larger than the rest.   
The ship had a warp drive, which was how they'd crossed multiple solar systems in a month and a half rather than years. Unfortunately, a small dial on the dashboard warned that the warp drive didn't have enough energy. Normally they would switch to the regular systems while near a sun and would fly normal speed through the solar system, charging the ship, but it might have been a bit far.   
Seeing the alarm on Quicksilver's faceplates, Streak hastened to reassure him, his voice as calm as ever. "No, no, we aren't in danger... this has happened a few times before. It's fine. I just have to shut off the systems that aren't essential. Grab a couple of blankets and come over here... non-essential systems include heating and most of the lights. I've never liked this, but we have to shut those off... can't risk it." he sighed, reaching over and flipping a switch. The lights and temperature-regulation system shut off, and the interior of the ship went almost completely dark. Even in space with nothing in the way, starlight wasn't much. "If you're comfortable with it... will you climb into this chair with me? We can share warmth, and... I suspect it'll be more comfortable, given how dark it's going to be here."   
  
Quicksilver nodded in understanding, grabbing a few blankets, then crept over and blinked at Streak with a frightened look in his optics. "I, uh... I-I'm n-not sure..."   
  
"I'll be honest, little one, I think I'm touch-starved almost as much as you. Space is dark and cold and lonely, especially when I have to shut things off. I'm not going to try anything, I promise... just... will you let me hold you?" Streak asked softly, lowering his wings and really just looking pitiful. "Please?"   
  
Quicksilver tilted his helm slightly, caught off guard. Streak looked so helpless... oh, yes, definitely. Creeping over, he blinked at Streak for one second, then shivered a bit and climbed into his lap.   
  
Streak gave a delighted little hum, hugging him, then gently wrapped the blankets around both of them. He made sure to keep one corner over his hip area, just wanting to put a barrier between his hip plating and Quicksilver in order to keep the tiny mech calm. "Thank you, little one..." he whispered, then tugged gently and shifted Quicksilver so that the smaller being was able to look out the window if he wanted. "Here. Just relax... not much to do while we're flying, I'm afraid. Is it alright if I hold you until we can turn the heat back on? Are you comfortable with that?"   
  
Quicksilver considered it for a moment, then quivered his newly shiny wings and cuddled down into Streak's frame, relaxing. "Mmm. Y-yeah. You're nice... I'm not scared of you. I like you." he whispered, then glanced up at Streak, optics shy. He gave a small humming noise, then leaned up and nuzzled Streak's jawline for a second, a shy gesture of affection. It wasn't quite a kiss, but it was close.   
  
Streak hummed softly in return, then gently kissed the top of Quicksilver's head before purring at him. "Quicksilver... the way you've been acting, I'm pretty sure you're open to my attention. Is that right?" he asked softly, venturing a small stroke up Quicksilver's arm. "If you remember my earlier offer... seems to me like you're saying yes?"   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly, looking up at him, then whined and hunched down into himself. "S-slow..." he begged, not sure exactly what was going to happen now.   
  
"Of course. I'm not going to drastically change anything... I'm just going to offer you a bit more of this kind of attention. If you want more, show me. If I scare you, tell me, I'll stop whatever's scaring you." Streak promised, then kissed the top of Quicksilver's helm, slowly moving a servo to stroke between his wings. "How about we just do this? Just cuddling and petting... nothing else. And, well... if you're comfortable, maybe a bit more of this?" he crooned, then gently kissed Quicksilver's audio fin, lightly nuzzling the sensitive metal before pulling back.   
  
Hmm... more kissing didn't sound bad at all. It was... nice, really. Not only was that a reasonably nice feeling, it was sweet and affectionate. Quicksilver hummed up at him, then leaned up and tentatively kissed a spot on Streak's jawline, in almost an experimental fashion. "I... I d-don't know... i-is this okay?"   
  
"Don't worry, little one..." Streak crooned, gently stroking Quicksilver's back. "Affection isn't an exact science, sweetie. Just test things, like that. It's okay... I'm not going to get upset with you. Relax, Quicksilver... just relax and experiment a bit. Try whatever you think might feel good, or just try whatever seems like a good expression of what you're trying to show."   
  
Quicksilver blinked up at him, then leaned up and got himself positioned at optic level to Streak. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in and kissed Streak- but on the mouth this time. Part of it was because he wanted to see how it would feel, wanted to see why people liked this... part of it was because he wanted to offer Streak the affection.   
  
Streak wasn't exactly surprised, Quicksilver had been moving hesitantly enough to give Streak warning, but he hadn't initiated the kiss. He didn't want to scare his sweetspark. Gently kissing the tiny mech back, he opened his mouth slightly, offering Quicksilver the chance to press a bit deeper- if he wanted.   
  
Quicksilver pressed just a bit deeper, perking his wings slightly, then pulled away after a second and hid his faceplates in Streak's neck. He wasn't frightened... this was a gentle thing, an expression of affection, and Streak hadn't made it anything but that.   
He was being shy.   
  
Streak blinked, then crooned softly and chuckled slightly when he realized what that meant. "Aww, sweetspark... are you shy?" he cooed, stroking between the wings for a second. "That's okay... you can be shy." _Cuuute... Oh, Primus- so cute! Look at you, sweetie, look at youuuu. I'm keeping you._  he mentally cooed to himself, then tilted his helm and very gently nipped just the tip of Quicksilver's audio, testing it as a gesture of affection. "How's that feel? I'm just going to try a few things, to see what you like. It'd be nice if you could give me a little feedback, but you don't have to."   
  
Quicksilver squeaked at the nip, attempting to duck his helm down a bit further. "N-no nipping." he squeaked, then turned his helm slightly, glancing up at him. "B-but... m-my audios... m-maybe if you- l-lick?" he suggested, very softly, looking shy but fairly sure he wanted this.   
  
"Okay, sweet mech." Streak hummed, then nuzzled his audio fin before very gently licking the black-painted tip. "Like that, Quicksilver?"   
  
Quicksilver shivered, then nodded slightly and tilted his helm, offering his audio fins. "Mhm. Y-yes. N-nice feeling."   
  
Streak hummed, acknowledging him, then closed his mouth around the tip of Quicksilver's audio and started to gently suck on the sensitive metal. He didn't bite down, didn't use his denta, just suckled gently. He also let his servos wander gently over Quicksilver's upper and middle back, rubbing softly and occasionally tugging on or prodding a spot to test sensitivity. "Mmm."   
  
Quicksilver crooned softly in pleasure, slowly venturing both servos down to Streak's sides to gently pet and touch and test sensitivity. Streak always made him feel nice... he wanted to return that. "Mmm... i-is this a good spot?" he ventured, slowly petting near Streak's wing bases.   
  
Streak let go of Quicksilver's audio for a moment, humming gently at him. "Mmm, yes. That's a good place to pet... little bit sensitive, but not too much. Definitely good." he purred, then turned the auto-pilot on and tugged the blankets up over both their helms. The ship would alert him if something came up that needed to be handled, and the small bit of warm darkness under their blankets was much better than the large pool of cold darkness in his ship.   
  
They basically just passed the time like that, both petting and stroking and offering innocent pleasure, both of them melting into each other's touch. The blankets kept them fairly warm, even when the ship began to cool off in the vacuum of space, and they didn't feel alone any more. Both were satisfying their touch-hunger, and what's more, Quicksilver was learning... learning not to be afraid.   
Quicksilver's fear of contact was mostly instinctive by now, driven by memories of fear and pain. Streak was gradually turning that off, really... with this gentle care and attention, Quicksilver's fear-instincts were being directed not to make him afraid of being touched by Streak. This was good, safe... and his instincts were being convinced of that.   
This was all going to turn out fine.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, radio contact!  
> And then another month.   
> And then Quicksilver being curious/nervous/ashamed/maybe a little bit turned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first segment is about two months after the initial meeting, the second is three months after that.   
> At the three-month point, Quicksilver is having a bit of a logic vs. instinct war. Logic tells him he's safe here and doesn't need to be afraid. His instincts, though, are still kinda going OMG WHAT ARE YOU DOING DON'T LET ANYBODY GET ANYWHERE NEAR THAT PLATING whenever he considers things. He doesn't want to be afraid, and he'd like to try things that are supposed to feel good, but he can't help the instincts freaking out. If the little guy was anywhere near angry, he'd be getting mad, but he's just not the angry type.   
> And then curiosity starts making itself known.

Streak woke slowly, greeted by the welcoming rays of light from the smallish sun they were currently flying past. He opened his optics, stretching, then blinked and looked down when he felt Quicksilver wriggling under all the blankets. Tossing the blankets out of the way, he placed a servo gently on Quicksilver's back, trying to calm him. "Shh, sweetspark, shh... you're okay, sweetie. Are you having a nightmare?" he asked softly, sliding one servo further down in order to keep Quicksilver from sliding down. "Easy, sweetie..."   
  
Quicksilver squeaked in response, then abruptly transformed, his alt mode engines sputtering fitfully but not igniting. He was trembling now, trying his best to shelter himself from the attack he thought was incoming.   
  
"No, sweetie, shh..." Streak crooned, then gently rubbed one servo across the edge of Quicksilver's wing, leaning back and carefully shifting the little jet so the engines weren't aimed at him. "You're okay, sweetspark, it's just me. Easy, sweetie... please, relax. Wake up, okay? Come back to me, sweetie... come back where it's safe."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered and trembled his wings, the wing-flaps shifting in a nervous gesture. "M' awake." he squeaked, though he stayed in alt mode, still frightened. "Mmmh..." the little Seeker whimpered, then slowly began to transform, though it was very slow and hesitant.   
  
"No, little one... if you're doing that because you're afraid, you stay like that." Streak whispered, gently stroking the raised plates until they settled down. "I'll tell you what... you stay like that for a little while, for as long as you feel nervous. I'm just going to sit here and try to coax you out, if I may... don't come out because I'm coaxing you, come out when you feel like you're safe. I'm just going to pet you and try to help you relax." he explained, very gently stroking the leading edge of one soft silver wing. "How does that sound?"   
  
Quicksilver squeaked again, then his trembling ebbed slightly as he felt the petting. "Mmh... I... t-that sounds okay." he decided, just waiting to see what would happen.   
  
Streak propped both pedes on the control panel, making sure Quicksilver wouldn't slide out of his lap, then began to pet and stroke those pretty wings. He noted with satisfaction that the markings had turned out well, then he began to slowly trace his servos over the spots where markings told him the little Seeker's ankles had ended up. No? Maybe he'd start petting- ah, here was a spot. This was Quicksilver's upper back, essentially. Still petting the spot he'd found, he shifted his weight slightly, then began to sing.   
He was singing something in Cybertronian, an old song about exploring the universe. It was soft and cheerful, good for this sort of thing.   
Gradually, he felt the tense armor under his servos begin to relax. After a minute or two, it began to slide and shift, until Streak had a little mech in his lap instead of a tiny jet.   
  
Quicksilver relaxed into a limp little bundle of mech, blinking up at him, then smiled just a bit and shifted to sit in Streak's lap. And he was okay with sitting in Streak's lap... this wasn't scary, it was Streak, the mech who kept a blanket over his lap to be sure he wouldn't scare Quicksilver. He trusted Streak. He was nervous, yes, but he wasn't afraid. Though, when Streak petted something along the edge of his wing base, where the underside of his wing faced the rest of him- a bolt of sheer pleasure shot up his spine, and Quicksilver keened in a mixture of shock and  _oh-slag-that-feels-incredible!_    
Squeaking, he tried to pull away from Streak, but just found himself up against the console. He was shaking slightly, mostly out of shock, still leaning away but not actually trying to escape.   
  
"Oh dear-" Streak jerked his servos away, then kept them raised and away from Quicksilver's frame, still bracing his legs to keep Quicksilver in his lap. "My apologies, sweetie- I didn't know that was sensitive. I'm sorry... are you okay?"   
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, then nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt at gaining some comfort. Yeah, he was alright... but that had frightened him somewhat.   
  
"Won't hurt you, sweetie... here, just let me hold you." Streak soothed, wrapping his arms around the smaller mech and cradling him close. "Easy, Quicksilver. I'm just going to hold you for a minute or two, until you stop quivering like that. I didn't know about that spot... I'll avoid it in the future, don't worry."  _I hope hugging you is the best thing to do here. You seem to like it... if I caused the problem, though, is it the best decision?_  
  
Apparently so. Quicksilver shuttered his optics and nuzzled into Streak's neck, tucking himself into a little ball in Streak's lap. "I-I'm o-okay. You j-just startled me. That... d-didn't hurt."   
  
"I'm glad." Streak hummed, then sighed slightly and nudged on Quicksilver's frame a bit when a soft beeping sounded. "Could you move slightly, sweetie? I need to see- ah, thank you. Now.. let's see what we have." he whispered, gently petting the back of Quicksilver's helm. "Hello- that's an incoming transmission. Shh, little one- let me do the talking."  
Flipping a switch, Streak listened for a second, then spoke up with his voice raised slightly- interstellar communications tended to be quite spotty. "Hello? Is someone out there? This is Streak, captain of the explorer-class passenger ship  _Stargazer._  Who am I speaking to?"   
  
There was a brief, static-y pause, then someone responded, fairly clear despite the (presumably) large distance.  **"Autobot medic Ratchet. Faction?"**  
  
"None, really. 'Friendly' isn't a faction, but if it was, that's us. We're looking for shelter and other people, really... gets lonely in space."   
  
 **"'We', huh? How many of you?"**  
  
"Just two. You don't have to worry about energon... I brought a decent bit with me, and I have an energy converter. It's old, but it works if you're fairly close to a sun. Could probably improve it a bit, with the right supplies. Might you have space for two small Seekers?"   
  
 **"Seekers, eh? You obey Starscream?"**  
  
"Myself, no. I find him irritating and high-strung. What about you, Quicksilver?"  
  
"N-no. H-he's mean... a-and violent. He scares me."   
  
 **"Good. In that case, we have room for you."**  
  
"Wonderful! My thanks. We're following your signal, though it's a bit spotty... I'm not sure when we might get there. May I ask who else is with you?"   
  
 **"No other Seekers, in case that's what you're wondering. All grounders. Only one you might recogniz-"**  
At that point, the transmission cut out.   
  
Noticing the worry in Quicksilver's optics, Streak gently petted the little mech's helm for a moment, then smiled softly at him. "No, don't worry... we probably just have a planet or two in the way. Interstellar communication is quite unsteady. We'll keep heading that way, and we should be able to find the signal again. Now... maybe back to petting?" he suggested softly, lightly stroking Quicksilver's helm and flaring his armor in a calm offer.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Turned out to be almost a month before they got the signal again. This one was a file instead of an open transmission, and they just barely managed to get the entire file before the connection cut out.   
 **Located on the third planet in the Sol system. Nearest system to that is a binary star system. Send a message over this channel when you arrive, not an open broadcast- safer that way. Good luck.  
~Ratchet**  
This was accompanied by a simple star map to confirm they were headed in the right direction.   
"That's good news." Streak hummed, reaching down and adjusting something on the side of the chair so that it was leaning back like a recliner. "There's a nebula in our path, little one... want to come watch it?" he asked, lightly patting his knee and looking back at Quicksilver.   
  
Perfectly fine with this by now, Quicksilver crept over and climbed into Streak's lap, settling himself against the larger mech so that he could look out the window. Streak usually still put a corner of the blanket over his lap, but Quicksilver had stopped minding if the blanket in question was accidentally nudged away. He knew what Streak's frame felt like, and he was no longer frightened by the contact.   
The tiny Seeker watched the nebula for a little while, then smiled and snuggled against Streak, tugging a blanket up over them. "I feel so good..." he whispered, twisting to look up at the larger mech. "I haven't been hungry in two months, nothing hurts, and I'm safe. And you make me feel good..." he whispered, then leaned up and nuzzled Streak's cheekplate. "I love this..."   
  
Streak hummed, then lightly pressed his nasal plate against Quicksilver, softly asking for a kiss. He still didn't initiate kisses, but he would do this, and Quicksilver would usually oblige.   
  
Quicksilver hummed softly, happily offering a kiss, then shifted to kneel in Streak's lap. Deepening the kiss, he slid both servos down to grip the other mech's upper arms, wings perking up in what almost looked like a dominant manner. Hmm... maybe he'd see what might happen if he did this.  
  
Streak was perfectly happy to submit, if it was what was needed, and now he did. Parting his denta, he let Quicksilver do as much as he wanted, both servos gently rubbing at the small mech's sides. Every few seconds, he would dig his claws into Quicksilver's sides just a touch, tugging softly in an effort to encourage him closer.   
  
Quicksilver shivered his wings, pressing closer, then dug his claws in- just a bit. Much to his surprise, his little engines hummed to life, rumbling softly and causing the area around them to vibrate slightly. Squeaking, he jerked back and just sat in Streak's lap, tense and staring down at him.  
  
Streak tilted his helm in surprise, looking him over for a moment, then hesitantly tried something. Parting his legs slightly, he rested his servos on the armrests of his chair, flaring his armor slightly more in the most open manner he could manage. "Quicksilver?" he ventured softly, hoping he wasn't about to scare the tiny one away. "Is there... something you'd like to do? I'm willing... you don't need to be afraid. It's your choice... what would you like? It seems to me that this-" he paused, lightly touching a piece of armor that was vibrating slightly from the jet engines. "-might be an expression of interest... it usually doesn't indicate outright arousal, just interest. Is that what you're feeling?"   
  
Quicksilver stared down at him, trembling all over, then nodded just a tiny bit. Biting his lip, he stared at Streak for a moment, then very slowly reached to just lightly touch Streak's chassis. Slowly, he traced his clawtips down to Streak's waist, then paused there and turned his gaze from his own servo to Streak's optics.   
  
Streak didn't part his legs any more, he had a feeling it might scare the little one. "Quicksilver... if you want to continue, you're welcome to do so. I'm not afraid of you, sweetspark, and you aren't doing anything wrong. If you don't want to, that's okay as well."   
  
Quicksilver shivered, optics widening, and his wings lowered a bit... but he didn't pull back. Slowly, he trailed one servo over to rest on Streak's hip, then placed his other servo on the other side. Biting his lip, he watched for a moment, then made a choice and spoke softly to the other mech. "I d-don't w-want to interface." he whispered, gradually moving one servo over to sort of hover it over the blue interface panel. "I... I think I w-want to t-touch, though... j-just t-touch... I-I d-don't want you to t-touch m-me, I-I'm s-still scared... b-but... can I t-touch y-you? I-I'm c-curious, I w-want to- I w-want to see."   
  
Streak smiled up at him, then reached down and adjusted something on the side of his chair, causing it to slowly lean down further. "Of course, Quicksilver. I'm happy to let you be as curious as you'd like. Here, just let me get comfortable."  
The chair was now almost completely parallel to the ground, though it was still bent in a couple of places and vaguely chair-shaped. Streak wriggled a bit, getting loose, then scooted further up the chair and spread his legs a bit. "Here you are, sweetie... move a bit closer."   
  
Quicksilver watched him for a moment, tense, then scooted closer and sat between Streak's legs, still just nervously looking him over.   
  
Streak put an arm behind his helm, then shifted to put his legs gently around Quicksilver's waist, careful not to pull him close and trap him. "Relax... remember, Quicksilver, it's never too late to stop. If you get too nervous, tell me, and you have my word I will stop whatever we're doing and back away." he soothed, doing his best to make everything about his frame as inviting as possible.   
  
"T-tell me if I s-should s-stop." Quicksilver whispered, then slowly rested a servo on Streak's inner thigh, just lightly petting the plating there for a moment to get up his nerve. Cautiously, he traced a fingertip along the seam of Streak's outer groin plating, then squeaked and twitched away when it slid back.   
  
"My apologies, sweetie. Reflex action." Streak explained, offering a small smile. "Usually that kind of stroke means something fun is going to happen. Let me know if you'd like me to retract the inner plating... either piece."   
  
Quicksilver nodded slightly, looking nervous, then slowly just rested the palm of his servo against the two thin plates. These plates were pristine, undamaged... no one had forced them aside. Rather unlike Quicksilver's inner plating, one piece of which which was torn at the edges and only barely managed to close. That was what happened when people... did things. But... Streak's plating... Quicksilver blinked, tilting his helm, then spoke in a soft little voice. "I k-know now w-why you a-aren't afraid."   
  
Streak tilted his helm slightly, genuinely confused. "What do you mean, little one? It's reasonably obvious why I'm not afraid... you aren't frightening."   
  
"I m-mean... w-why you aren't n-nervous... w-why i-interfacing doesn't scare you." Quicksilver elaborated, still just lightly touching the delicate plating. "N-no one h-hurt you. Y-you've never h-had to be s-scared of this... i-it confused me b-before, but... n-now I g-get it." he whispered, his optics soft as he looked down at Streak.   
  
Streak slowly raised one servo, beginning to gently stroke Quicksilver's audio fin as he spoke. "Ah... now I see. No, Quicksilver, I haven't been hurt that way. I don't have the instinctive fear you have, little one... you're right, I feel safe because interface has always been safe for me. I'm sorry your experiences have been different. I can't change the past, I'm afraid, but... I can try to help. Like what I'm doing right now... would you like to continue? I'm just fine with that..."   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, meeting Streak's optics, then looked down at his servo. The plating under his fingertips was slightly warmer than it had been before, but it wasn't currently heating. Yeah, he was okay. Nodding slightly, he moved both servos to more or less frame the two small plates, then whined softly and huddled into himself a bit.   
Streak's inner crotch plating was silver-white, and though it hadn't been polished recently, it was clean. Clean, undamaged... untarnished. Not like Quicksilver's. Whimpering very softly, the tiny Seeker huddled into himself, but his optics weren't showing fear... really, his expression looked more like shame than anything else.   
  
"Quicksilver?" Streak ventured, sitting up slightly and looking concerned. "What's wrong, sweetspark? I- did you notice the heat? That's a fairly typical reaction to this sort of touch, even given that you're just curious..." the small flier hummed, slowly trailing off at the end. Oh, Primus... those  _optics_. Why did Quicksilver look like he'd just done something terrible? "Quicksilver... what's the matter?"   
  
Quicksilver wasn't exactly retreating from Streak's touches, he was just huddling into a little ball on the chair, his optics still holding that  _look_. Gesturing slightly towards Streak's still-exposed inner plating, he spoke very softly, immediately withdrawing his servos and tucking them against his frame. "'S  _clean._ " he whispered, looking down at his own frame to keep from meeting Streak's optics. "I-I'm n-not... 'm dirty."   
  
Streak closed his outer plating, then scooted closer and very gently hugged Quicksilver, noting that the little rumbles of interest from his tiny engines had stopped. "Aw, no... sweetie, you aren't dirty."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered and huddled further into himself, then wriggled loose and skittered into the shower area. He didn't believe Streak... he just felt disgusting now. He'd been reminded of the feeling, and now it probably wasn't going to go away for a long time. That was what normally happened. Whimpering, he turned the shower on full, then grabbed the roughest brush he could find. Retracting his outer crotch plating, he began to scrub at the inner plating, whining softly in discomfort but not stopping. This was the only thing he knew that might eventually get rid of that feeling of self-disgust.   
  
"Sweetspark..." Streak sighed, following him into the shower. Keeping his optics above Quicksilver's waist, he gently but firmly gripped the tiny Seeker's arms, preventing him from using the brush any more. "No. Quicksilver, you aren't dirty... and you're hurting yourself, sweetie. Be still... there's nothing physically wrong with you. I know you feel like it, but the only thing wrong with you is some mental trauma... which is completely understandable." he sighed, gently tugging the brush out of Quicksilver's servos and putting it aside. "And... that feeling is understandable, as well. Would you like me to try to fix that feeling?" he asked softly, picking up a soft cloth designed to clean delicate parts. "I won't touch you without your permission, but... if you'd like, I can try to get rid of that feeling."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, squirming for a moment, then pressed up against Streak and nodded slightly. "I-if you c-can... p-please..." he whispered, though he didn't think it was going to work. He was tainted... he'd been told as much.   
  
Streak let go of the little mech, reaching down and picking up a bottle of a gentle cleanser. It smelled faintly nice, like clean things. Dabbing a bit of the cleanser onto the cloth, he gently put one arm around Quicksilver, looking down at him. "Sweetie... may I touch your inner plating, just for a moment or two?" he asked softly, wanting to be absolutely certain this was okay.   
  
Quicksilver whimpered, then obeyed and shifted to part his legs slightly, standing with his pedes further apart than normal. Just for a second, this would be okay... he'd do a lot to get rid of this feeling of disgust.  
  
"Okay, sweetspark..." Streak cooed, reaching down and very gently pressing the cloth to Quicksilver's inner plating. He ran the cloth in small circles over the plating, just for a moment, then ran the cloth down each inner thigh, just once. "There. Is that any better?" he asked, gently rubbing the cloth over some old claw marks on Quicksilver's hips.   
  
"Mmmh..." Quicksilver tensed and bit his lip at the touch, quivering, but he didn't panic. That... okay, that actually wasn't so bad. The cloth didn't feel like someone's servo, it just felt like soft cloth. He didn't like being touched  _there_ , but... he was actually kind of okay. "I... m-more?" he ventured, very softly, then pushed on Streak's shoulder. "B-but- d-down..." he whispered, not comfortable with the mech being taller than him right now. But... the feeling... it was going away. Streak was touching his inner plating, willingly, without being disgusted or trying to get anything. That felt better...   
  
"Okay, sweetie... I'll be gentle, I promise." Streak cooed, kneeling in front of Quicksilver and gently placing a servo on the mech's middle back to keep him still. As gently as possible, he began to wipe the cloth along the seams around Quicksilver's panel, doing his best to get rid of any trace of dirt. There wasn't really anything, not after Quicksilver had taken the scrub brush to himself, but... it was a feeling he wanted to get rid of, not something physical.   
After a few minutes, Streak moved to the small mech's inner thighs, gently cleaning the plating in an effort to eliminate the last of that bad feeling.   
  
Quicksilver shivered all over at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Much to his surprise, that... was helping. "Mmh..."   
  
"There." Streak cooed, setting the cloth aside and standing up. Turning off the shower, he gently held Quicksilver against his own frame, rubbing his back to see if he could make him feel a bit better. "Now... are you feeling a bit better?" he asked, then began to gently stroke the leading edge of Quicksilver's wing, petting along the black trim.   
  
"Yes." Quicksilver mumbled, then nuzzled Streak's neck in a gesture of thanks. "Better. Thank you." he whispered, closing his outer plating and pressing a bit closer to the larger mech. "Feel better now."   
  
"Aw. Glad I could help." Streak crooned, then reached over and picked up a towel. "We should probably get dried off so we can walk around without slipping."  
  
  
  
Quicksilver stayed in a good mood for the rest of the day, really. Unfortunately, though, that didn't last overnight.   
  
In the middle of the night, Streak was woken up by Quicksilver screaming. The small mech was keening in terror and what seemed like pain, thrashing helplessly and only managing to get himself tangled up in the blankets as he tried to escape. It wasn't the first time this had happened, true, but something was different. After a moment of struggling, Quicksilver whimpered and went still, arms over his helm, both layers of crotch plating slowly moving back as if someone was forcing them. His screaming stopped for a moment, replaced by broken pleas, then he wailed and arched his back in apparent pain.   
  
"Quicksilver- little one, WAKE UP." alarmed, Streak ceased his gentle nudges and just grabbed Quicksilver's arms, giving him a shake. "Wake up, Quicksilver! It's okay, sweetspark, it's okay! Nobody's going to hurt you again- you're safe here, you're only dreaming. Wake up, little one, please!" he begged, then scooped Quicksilver into his lap, forcing the small mech's legs together. "Sweetspark- please, wake up..." the small Seeker pleaded, stroking Quicksilver's wings in an effort to wake him. He didn't stick to the leading edges this time, he needed something abrupt- so the little mech dipped his claws down into the first joints he came across, petting every wire he could reach.  
  
Quicksilver whimpered, squirming, then his optics snapped open when he felt the strokes to his wings. That- that wasn't part of this- vents heaving, he stared up at Streak for a moment, then started crying and curled into a shaky little ball, whimpering in pain as he did.   
  
"Oh, sweetspark, come here..." Streak whispered, cradling him closer and tugging a blanket up over Quicksilver's hips. "Close your panels, Quicksilver... there you go. I... little one, are you in pain? You aren't injured... what's wrong?" he asked anxiously, rubbing gentle circles across Quicksilver's shuddering back. Those were whimpers of pain, he was sure of it... but... Quicksilver wasn't hurt. Was he?  
  
Quicksilver gave a little sniffling noise, staring up at him, then whimpered and shut his optics. "T-the b-bad n-nightm-mares h-hurt." he sobbed, curling into himself and trying to hide in the multiple blankets he'd gotten tangled in.  _Don't look at me..._  
  
"Oh, sweetspark..." Streak whispered, his spark breaking for the quivering little mech in his lap. "Shh, Quicksilver, shh... I'm so sorry, little one. Come here, sweetspark, let me try to make you feel better."   
  
"Mmmh..." Quicksilver whimpered, then squirmed a bit, suddenly wanting to get away from the close quarters of their nest. "W-want t-to r-run aw-way." he squeaked, wriggling in Streak's arms, then went still and whimpered. He didn't want Streak to let go, but... he didn't want to be confined. He needed to RUN, needed to get away- all his instincts were screaming that he had to get away before he was hurt again.  
  
"Okay, sweetie. Go on- you run over to my chair, okay? I'll be right over there, I promise." Streak cooed, letting go of the tiny Seeker, then winced as Quicksilver ran off- but limping.  _Sweetspark... your nightmares hurt you so badly you still feel it? Oh, Primus... I NEED TO MAKE THAT STOP._  
Gathering a few blankets, he moved quickly over to his chair, climbing on and leaning it back as far as it would go. Laying on his back and putting a fairly significant portion of the blanket over his hips, he offered Quicksilver a soft little smile, doing his best to be inviting and friendly. "Come here, sweetie... let me cuddle you. I'll do my best to make you feel better, Quicksilver..."   
  
Quicksilver sniffled, slinking over to Streak and climbing into his lap. He was doing his best not to cry, but he was only half-succeeding. The tiny mech's vents were heaving, and he was giving strangled little sobs, wings clamped down against his back again.   
  
"It's okay for you to cry, Quicksilver... don't fight it. That's never good for you. Just cry, sweetie... might make you feel a bit better." Streak cooed, stroking the quivering wings and trying to not be scary. "It's okay, sweetie... it's okay. Let go... you're safe here, little one, no one will hurt you. You have my word, Quicksilver, I will do everything in my power to keep you from being hurt like that again. I can't stop the dreams, but I can try... and I can make it better once you're awake."   
  
Quicksilver blinked, looking up at him, then hid his faceplates in Streak's neck and gave up on holding everything in. He basically just fell apart into a little heap, sobbing softly and trying to disappear into Streak's frame. He was frightened, hurting, and upset... his happiness hadn't lasted long. Wait- no, no, Streak was starting to sing a lullaby. "D-don't m-make m-me r-recharge..." he begged, frightened that the nightmare would resume. "P-please..."   
  
"Okay, sweetspark... okay. You can stay awake. I may end up recharging, but you can stay awake." Streak whispered, nuzzling Quicksilver's audio fin and gently stroking his wings in an effort to soothe him. "I think I'm going to sing something else for you, little one. I hung around a group of explorers for a while, so now I know plenty of nice songs. And a few not-so-nice ones that I won't sing unless I'm drunk, but we'll leave those alone for now." he decided, then tilted his helm and considered something for a moment. "Quicksilver... I'm going to try one song in particular. If you aren't comfortable with this, you can tell me, and I'll stop."   
  
Still crying softly, Quicksilver looked up at him, then his vents hitched as Streak began to sing. The Seeker was stroking Quicksilver's wings as he sang, and... he was- oh, Primus, was this a love song?   
It was.   
Streak was singing a love song for him.   
Optics wide, Quicksilver stared up at Streak, his sobbing hitching for a moment out of pure surprise. Once the surprise wore off, he wasn't quite crying, not any more. He was making shaky little whimpering noises, but the tears had mostly stopped. He was just staring up at Streak, the phantom pain from his nightmare completely forgotten and therefore gone. He'd been in pain because he expected to be in pain, so now that he wasn't expecting it, he was fine.   
  
Streak smiled down at him, gently wiping the tears away and continuing to sing. He was now stroking Quicksilver's wingtips, gently rubbing the metal with his palms and being careful not to tweak any wires or bits of plating. Quicksilver was relaxing... the little mech was slumped against him, and the spark-wrenching little sobs had stopped.   
Finishing the song, Streak gently nuzzled against Quicksilver's cheek, coaxing him into a soft kiss. Humming in satisfaction, he looked down at his sweetie, his optics brightening slightly as he saw those wings perk just a fraction. "There you go, sweetspark... I know a few more songs like that, would you like me to sing them?"   
  
The expression in Quicksilver's optics was best described as 'enchanted'. Streak was singing this for him... not only was this mech being incredibly sweet to him, Streak actually WANTED him- for more than just satisfying urges. Streak was... courting him. Being gentle, going slow, being careful not to frighten him... and it was  _incredibly nice_. He wanted more. "Y-yes... p-please."   
  
"Just give me one moment, sweetspark, I have an idea." Streak hummed, gently wriggling out from under Quicksilver's frame and moving away from the chair. Humming to himself and swaying his hips slightly, he moved over to the cabinet that held blankets and other comfy things, withdrawing a small cube of energon. Beginning another song, he walked over to the incinerator, placing the cube in a small slot right next to the incinerator. That would warm it up... now, in the meantime, he was going to try something.   
Still singing, the little mech began to dance to his own tune, making things up on the spot and being sure to flare his wings and sway his hips fairly often. He was attempting to be fairly attractive without blatantly going "come and get me", and he was managing to pull it off. Crooning softly, he moved over to the chair again, reaching down to gently stroke Quicksilver's audio fins. Still singing, he leaned over the top of the chair, flaring his wings and basically saying "come on, touch me, it's okay..." with his frame.   
  
Quicksilver didn't reach to touch him, but he pressed up into the touches to his audios, wings perking just a bit in interest. Oh, that was pretty... smiling just a tiny bit, he edged slightly closer, his wings quivering a bit but raised slightly off his back. Yes... this was nice.  
  
Streak ended his song with a gentle stroke to Quicksilver's wing-tips, then spun away, pausing on one pede and tilting his helm. "Hmm- I have one more song like that, but I think I'm going to save that for a little while. Oh- you like my dancing, Quicksilver? I definitely have a few things I can dance to. Hmm... I'll just try this one-" he decided, spinning neatly on one pede and sliding into a more practiced dance routine. He liked this song, so he'd danced to it on numerous occasions, and by now he knew something that felt like it probably looked neat. This one was more lively than his previous song, but it was slow enough to suit his needs here- namely, he needed a song he could use to show off to his sweetspark, something he could use to display his wings and frame.  
  
Quicksilver flickered his wings slightly, a clear indication that he liked what he was seeing, then tilted his helm and slowly reached one servo towards Streak. Could he, maybe... "C-can I..?"   
  
Streak took a few steps closer, purposefully swaying his hips, then spun around and offered his wings. Continuing to move slightly, he stayed right in front of Quicksilver, letting the little mech pet his wings.   
  
Quicksilver wiggled closer and reached up to cautiously pet Streak's wings, just stroking the leading edges. Pretty wings, pretty mech... was Streak really offering him this? Because, if he was... gentle treatment, nothing to be afraid of, beautiful sweet Seeker offering everything and asking nothing in return... if he didn't have to interface, yes, please, yes. He didn't quite understand why Streak would offer this, but he _wanted_  it.   
  
Streak hummed softly, pressing his wings into Quicksilver's servos, then ended the song and gently spun away. He pulled the small cube out from its spot next to the incinerator, then moved over and climbed back onto the chair, attempting to resume their former position. Laying back, he settled his wings into place, slowly coaxing Quicksilver to creep slightly up onto his reclined frame so that the little mech was pressed against Streak's side. "Come on, sweetspark... I think this might help you calm down. Might get you all settled down." he cooed, putting an arm around Quicksilver and somewhat awkwardly opening the cube.   
  
Curling up against Streak's frame, Quicksilver blinked up at him, still wearing a tiny little smile. "I... I l-like t-that... c-can you d-dance m-more, l-later?" he asked softly, resting a servo on Streak's chassis.   
  
"Of course, sweetspark. I can try to teach you, also, if you'd like. For now... taste?" Streak offered, holding the cube near Quicksilver's mouth.   
  
Curious, Quicksilver took a little sip of the energon, then twitched his wings in surprise. Oh... that was a good taste. He definitely liked that. Leaning slightly closer, he flittered his wings happily and settled into place, his optics going from wide in fear to reasonably calm.   
  
"I forget exactly what's in it, but this is a blend that's designed to calm someone down a bit by partially imitating the taste of the kind of energon a sparkling gets. Works better warm. The idea is to convince someone's instincts that they're safe, they're with a caregiver... someone who won't hurt them." Streak explained, holding the cube where Quicksilver could reach with one servo and tugging a blanket over them with the other. "Here... just lay still, Quicksilver, and try to relax. You don't have to recharge, but I do want you to relax. Maybe you can recharge more once you feel calm, since we don't really have day or night. If we calm you down enough, you should be able to recharge without nightmares..."   
  
Quicksilver snuggled into Streak's frame, not even touching the cube with his servos as he drank. He didn't need to, didn't need control, wasn't used to it... the only reason to be in control was to avoid being hurt, and Streak wasn't going to hurt him, so he didn't need control right now. He'd just lay here and enjoy this. "Mmm..."   
  
 _My little sweetspark... beautiful little thing. I'm so sorry you've been hurt... don't worry, I'm going to do my best to help you._  
"That's it... juuust relax." Streak cooed, then shifted a bit and began to gently nibble along the edge of Quicksilver's audio fin, smiling at the little squeak he got in response. "Cute. Cute cute cute." he cooed, gently tapping Quicksilver's side with every word.   
  
Quicksilver gave a muffled little squeak at every poke, then wiggled until Streak got the message and stopped poking him. Much to Quicksilver's distaste, Streak also pulled the cube away so Quicksilver wouldn't end up choking on the energon. Latching his mouth firmly onto the cube again, Quicksilver put a servo up to hold onto it, actually growling just a tiny bit in the back of his throat. That was HIS, he wasn't going to let go of the energon- it was HIS energon. Nobody got to take that away.   
  
Streak raised both optic ridges in surprise, mildly startled, then relaxed a bit as he understood. "Ah... my apologies, little one. I'm not going to take the energon away from you, sweetspark... you can keep it."   
 _He's defensive of his meals... makes sense. That's a fairly common trait in anything that's gone hungry, especially if it's due to other people taking their food away. I'll just have to make sure I don't do that again... I need to keep him feeling safe around me._  
  
Once the perceived threat of a lost meal was gone, Quicksilver relaxed, settling back into a calm, happy state.   
  
  
To both of their surprise, they managed to keep Quicksilver calm and happy for something like two weeks.  _Two weeks_  of no fear whatsoever, no unease, nothing but calm happiness. It was lovely. Unexpected and surprising, but lovely.   
  
Quicksilver was awake, playing with a puzzle, and Streak was recharging in their nest.   
Quicksilver smiled to himself, having untangled the puzzle, and set it down. His attention went to Streak, and his optics widened, the little Seeker tensing up as he watched the other mech.   
  
Streak was sprawled on his front, legs spread fairly wide, engines running hot and ventilation whirring loudly. He was apparently having one of  _those_  dreams, which, fortunately for Quicksilver's security, didn't happen often.  
  
Quicksilver scooted a little bit closer, intending to wake him, then paused and tilted his helm. Huh. Well... Streak was acting fairly submissive, so that wasn't alarming, which more or less removed his need to wake Streak. In fact... that was sort of interesting.   
Was... was it okay to watch Streak for a minute before waking him up? Well... yeah, it might be okay. Right? It wasn't like he could see what Streak was dreaming, he was just... watching his shipmate twitch and make little noises.  
That was... actually rather attractive. Quicksilver tilted his helm, then looked down at himself at the all-but-new sensation of his engines starting to rumble softly in response.   
And that scared him. His frame's reaction scared him, and... Streak's dream was scaring him.   
Streak was having a not-overly-demonstrative dream involving him apparently being the submissive partner in what sounded like something nice, and it was scaring Quicksilver.   
That... that wasn't...  
No...  
  
Streak woke up a few minutes later, his frame heated slightly beyond normal but not to a level that wouldn't go away on its own. That hadn't been a very vivid dream. But, still, it was nice to wake up feeling like he'd had some nice attention... well, attention from someone else. He was still... "physically lonely" was a decent way to put it. If it wasn't for the fact that Quicksilver didn't seem anywhere near ready for that kind of thing, Streak would have been trying to coax the mech into his berth for much more than cuddling.   
No... not yet. Maybe in a month or so he'd venture to act just a bit tempting, see if Quicksilver might be okay with it... maybe it was okay to quietly offer to let Quicksilver try a dominant role? Not yet, definitely not yet, but maybe in a month.   
Speaking of... where  _was_  Quicksilver?   
Streak propped himself up on his servos, taking a good stretch, then stood up and looked around. "Quicksilver?" he ventured, then paused when he saw that one cabinet in particular was open. And... why was his "personal box" on the floor?   
Quicksilver must have gotten it out. Well... that was alright, albeit slightly embarrassing. Could that possibly be why Quicksilver was hiding? Streak did have a soft leash and a pair of padded cuffs in that box, but that was about the worst thing... the little Seeker wasn't really into anything particularly rough or dominant, the cuffs were the scariest thing he had. That wasn't enough to terrify Quicksilver into hiding, was it? Or, well, maybe it was. It would depend on Quicksilver's past experiences, Streak decided.  
Wait. The shower was running, he could hear it now that he was fully awake. Walking over to the showers, Streak opened the door, then gave a little noise of concern when he found Quicksilver.   
  
Quicksilver was curled into a little ball in the corner, sobbing softly, and he twitched when the door opened. Whining, he glanced up at the larger mech, then hid his face again and lowered his wings until they were basically invisible.   
  
"Oh, sweetie..." Streak whispered, turning off the shower and moving to kneel in front of him. "Quicksilver, what's wrong? I... it wasn't the cuffs, was it? I'm willing to get rid of those, if they scare you... are you okay?" he asked softly, reaching to gently touch Quicksilver's arm.   
"Sweetie..."  
  
Quicksilver didn't pull away, he just whimpered, shaking his helm slightly. No... it wasn't the cuffs. He didn't understand why someone would like wearing those, he probably never would, but they weren't what was upsetting him. It was just...   
  
If he wasn't scared, it was probably okay to hug him... Streak promptly did so, hugging little Quicksilver close and gently stroking the back of his helm. "Sweetie, please... what's wrong? I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is... can you tell me?"   
  
Quicksilver whined softly, his claws tightly gripping his arms in a gesture of distress. "I-I'm s-scared..." he whispered, then uncurled slightly and looked up at Streak. "I s-shouldn't be... y-you were j-just  _dreaming_ , and... I... I t-tried to..." breaking off, he gestured in the direction of the box, trying to explain. "I j-just wanted to see if I c-could... s-stand b-being touched. I c-can't. I s-shouldn't be s-scared- I-I'm s-safe." the little mech explained, a faintly desperate look showing in his optics. "I... h-help."   
  
"Quicksilver..." Streak whispered, hugging him closer and gently stroking Quicksilver's audio fins. "No, sweetie, it's okay... it's okay to be scared. Your instincts don't know you're safe... it's okay to act like this, sweetspark."   
  
"B-but I'm f-fine! I... I d-don't want to b-be scared, I..." vents hitching, Quicksilver reached out and gently touched Streak's side, slowly running a fingertip over the cabling. "I w-want..."   
  
Gently taking Quicksilver's servo in his own, Streak pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his servo, trying to get him to relax. "You're traumatized. That's okay. You can be scared, sweetie.... it's alright. Listen, sweetspark... I don't think you should be doing things that make you this scared, okay? We should probably stick with things you're at least okay with. I suppose it's probably good for you to stretch your comfort zone a bit, but you're shaking so much... this can't be healthy." he whispered, cradling the smaller mech against his frame. "Don't rush yourself, okay? Take your time."  
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, shaking his helm and hiding in Streak's chassis for a moment. "I d-don't want to be scared any more!" he squeaked, staring up at the larger mech. "I-I don't like it... I w-want... please, I just d-don't want to be s-scared... h-help me."  
  
"Okay, sweetspark... okay. Let me try to help, okay? You can't just turn your instincts off, not without a lot of code modification, but I can try to help you a bit. Come here, sweetspark... would you like to sit in my lap for a while, maybe? I can pet your wings... or we can go sit in our nest, and I can get some candy."   
  
Quicksilver shuddered his wings, shaking the liquid off, then nodded a tiny bit. "Okay, s-sounds nice." he mumbled, making as if to stand up- then squeaked in surprise when Streak lifted him. Startled, he gripped the other mech's plating in both servos, a bit surprised but fine with this.   
  
Streak gently held Quicksilver in a bridal carry, cradling the other mech close as he slipped out of the shower and walked over to their nest. Smiling, he nuzzled Quicksilver's cheek, then knelt and put the little thing down. "I'm a bit stronger than I look."   
  
Quicksilver blinked up at him, offering a tiny smile, then suddenly grabbed Streak's arm and attempted to pull him closer. "Here... y-you make me f-feel nice, I w-want to do that for you." he squeaked softly, scooting to the side in an effort to find a good position. "I... w-what should I do?" he asked, tilting his helm and trying to figure out what might be good. He didn't know... "I... d-don't really k-know how to do m-much... I'm sorry."  
  
Streak regarded him for a moment, then hopped up and ran over to grab something from a cabinet. Hopping into the nest again, he sat down near Quicksilver, offering him a small container of polish and a couple of rags. "Here... what about this? It's simple, just-" pausing, he demonstrated on one patch of his arm plating, rubbing the polish into his plating in small circles. "-like this. Feels pretty nice. I'll just-" laying down on his front, he stretched out and flared his wings, inviting Quicksilver to touch.  
  
Quicksilver took the rag, watching him for a moment, then smiled slightly and edged closer. Those wings were so pretty and inviting... if Streak would let him, he'd start with hose. Resting a servo carefully on one wing to keep it still, he began to somewhat cautiously rub the polish-coated cloth in small circles, starting slowly to be sure this was okay.   
  
Streak crooned softly in response, pressing up into the touches slightly. "Mmm... there you go, like that. That feels nice, Quicksilver... just like that." he cooed, arching just a fraction and offering his frame to the smaller mech.   
  
Quicksilver smiled at the response and continued, taking his time instead of speeding up that much. He wanted to enjoy himself at this point... and he was. Streak responded softly to the touches and strokes, pressing up into him and making happy noises in response, but he stayed laying on his front instead of trying to do anything but respond.   
After a little while, Quicksilver gently touched Streak's shoulder, coaxing him to roll over and let Quicksilver get his front. He paused a moment when the Seeker obliged, not sure where it was okay to touch, then slowly reached and began to polish the other mech's chassis plates.   
  
Streak put an arm behind his helm and just relaxed, smiling softly as he watched Quicksilver. The smaller mech wasn't just polishing, he was cautiously inspecting Streak's frame, occasionally venturing to touch something out of curiosity.   
  
Quicksilver abruptly stopped, putting the cloth down, then reached out and slowly stroked both servos down Streak's sides, pausing right at his waist.   
  
Streak was a bit puzzled by the abrupt change in gear, but he didn't protest. He just arched gently up into the other mech's servos, responding happily to the touches and hoping to convince Quicksilver to try something else. Displaying how he felt about this petting seemed like a good idea... it might coax Quicksilver to touch more, especially give the tiny smiles Streak earned every time he responded well. Quicksilver seemed to be enjoying this.   
  
Quicksilver paused, his servos still gently gripping right above Streak's hips, then scooted forwards a bit more and tilted his helm slightly as he considered something. Streak responded so well to being touched by him... he wanted more of that, but... the way Streak arched up into his servos, he wanted to see more of that, but not just from stroking like this. Quicksilver wanted... he wanted to feel Streak pressed against him as he arched, he wanted- what DID he want?  
Quicksilver slid his servos down just a bit, rubbing his thumbs gently over Streak's hips for a moment, then his optics went huge as it clicked into place what he was starting to want. OH. He wanted... that? He actually wanted to...   
No, that wasn't going to work... it scared him to be touched, at least there.   
Wait. But... Streak had offered to let him-   
Quicksilver tightened his grip slightly on Streak's hips, then made a choice and lunged forwards, both servos gripping Streak's shoulders, now straddling the other mech's waist. Leaning down, he roughly kissed the larger mech, attempting to gain a little confidence. The lunge had been impulse, but now that he was straddling the other mech- he might as well do something, right? Streak was on his back, submitting, offering himself to Quicksilver... it was safe to take what was offered. He didn't plan to retract any of his own plating, but he was at least going to see what happened.   
  
Streak gave a startled little yelping noise at the lunge, a noise that was quickly muffled by the kiss. Once over the shock, though, he gladly kissed the smaller mech back. Arching up against Quicksilver, he reached up and gently gripped the edges of the tiny thing's wings, stroking gently but not pulling. He wouldn't pull Quicksilver closer, he wouldn't push this, he wouldn't try to be dominant... he'd just relax, respond, submit, and let Quicksilver do what he wanted. Streak was willing to let Quicksilver do just about anything he could think of... it wasn't like the tiny mech was likely to have a hidden sadistic side or something like that, and that was about the only thing Streak would object to.   
  
Quicksilver propped himself up on his elbows, pulling away from the kiss and staring down at the larger mech under him. Streak was smiling a bit, touching him, reacting positively... those were good responses. He could... he could go further than this, maybe. He could experiment. Shifting to put his weight on his knees, he carefully touched the spread wings, then began to rub the soft blue wingtips. After a moment, though, something else flittered across his mind. Scooting backwards to sit on one of Streak's legs, he slid a servo under the other leg, lifting and tugging lightly so that the other mech's pede was in his lap. This meant that one leg was bent, Streak was held fairly still, and the delicate blue crotch plating was exposed. There... Quicksilver liked how that looked. Now he could do as he pleased, so long as Streak didn't protest. Pausing, he just looked Streak over for a minute or two, making sure this was okay.   
  
Streak offered him an encouraging little smile, though his wings trembled a bit at the loss of the petting. Now with both arms behind his helm, he kept his gaze on Quicksilver, his plating still fanned open slightly in an inviting manner. He didn't speak, didn't suggest anything... that might scare the little sweetspark away. He'd just let Quicksilver do as he pleased, and maybe this would end up going somewhere? Though... he'd have to make sure the other mech wasn't pushing himself too hard, like what he'd been trying earlier. No need for Quicksilver to do that, there wasn't a deadline for recovery.   
  
Quicksilver slowly ran both servos across Streak's midsection, then down under his frame, then along the backs of the other mech's thighs to his knees. Curious, he began to gently stroke and touch the insides of Streak's thighs, testing for any reactions he might get.   
Hmm... interesting reactions. Streak was chirping softly in response, little noises that sounded like noises of pleasure, and his legs twitched every time Quicksilver found a particularly sensitive spot. Quicksilver's wings hitched a bit higher on his back with every chirp and twitch, his frame responding instinctively to a potential mate's positive input, until his wings were hitched up to full height and still quivering. His interface systems hadn't kicked on, not quite, but his frame was starting to heat up a bit and his cooling fans were starting to hum audibly as they sped up. Somewhat to his own surprise, though, he wasn't that scared. He was a bit apprehensive, but... Streak was partially held down, the other mech wasn't trying to touch him, nobody's plating was retracted, and Streak's frame wasn't terribly warm. Streak probably wanted something, yes, but he wasn't trying to grab Quicksilver, he was just gripping the bedding in both servos in order to stay still.   
  
If it wasn't for his own self-restraint, Streak would have been doing quite a bit more than this. He was forcing himself to be reasonably still, forcing himself not to reach out and touch Quicksilver. Ai, those touches... Quicksilver didn't know it, but he was playing with some very sensitive areas. Streak wanted so badly to pull the little mech closer, flip them over, and show the little mech how good things could feel- but it was going to scare Quicksilver terribly if he acted on the urge. No, no... he just needed to be still, lay still, even if every fiber of his being wanted him to do more. He wanted to show Quicksilver what felt good, and... he  _wanted_  Quicksilver, wanted the little mech to stop the unintended teasing and at least directly touch his equipment. Streak might have been acting reasonably calm, but Quicksilver's explorations were doing a lot more than the silver mech seemed to realize. But Streak couldn't show that, he couldn't, Quicksilver was being so bold and Streak couldn't risk scaring him away.   
Streak huffed a bit as Quicksilver abruptly crawled up on top of him, though he didn't protest in the slightest. This time, the kiss didn't catch him off guard, and Streak gladly returned it- but then he felt the palm of Quicksilver's servo scuff over his interface panel. Was that intentional? Well, it didn't much matter much... the clawtips on that servo had dipped into something right in the spot where Streak's leg met the rest of him, and that was it, the panel was open before Streak could stop it.   
  
Quicksilver froze at the distinctive snicking noise, two signals warring with each other in his mind. That sound had haunted his nightmares for years... the sound of someone else's panel snapping back always meant Quicksilver was going to be hurt. But... Quicksilver wasn't on his back, he wasn't pinned against a wall, he wasn't held down... he was sitting on Streak,  _he_  was the dominant one here, not the other mech. And... the other signal, the other thing tugging at his instincts and pulling his reaction away from pure terror... the other signal was Streak. He was sprawled across Streak, frozen in place,  _kissing_  him. Every sense was telling him that the mech under him was Streak, and this was a safe mech. Streak was  _his_  safe mech. Everything he knew about Streak told him that this was a safe person, this was someone good, this was someone who would make him feel good...   
Instinctive terror warred with logic and the  _safe/protected/comfortable_  feeling Streak gave him, keeping Quicksilver from acting for a few long moments. Slowly, he leaned up a bit, staring down into Streak's optics, instincts still warring with each other.   
  
Oh... no, that contact hadn't been on purpose. "I'm sorry, sweetspark... I thought that might have been on purpose." Streak explained, slowly venturing one servo up to just touch one shimmering silver wingtip. "I... do you want me to close up?" he asked softly, just rubbing the palm of his servo over Quicksilver's wingtip in an effort to keep him from panicking. He could do that, he could close the panel again... though sooner or later he was going to have to do something about this.  
  
Quicksilver shifted a bit, slowly moving to sit next to Streak, then slowly let his optics travel down Streak's frame. He was curious... he was nervous, yes, his frame had gone tense all over, but... he wasn't quite scared enough to run yet, not yet.   
Oh.   
That... that wasn't what he'd thought. That wasn't the panel he was used to seeing open on other people... that was Streak's valve cover that was open. Slowly, Quicksilver raised one servo, then ventured his servo towards the delicate equipment that was now exposed, his optics going to Streak's faceplates once more to make sure this was okay.  
  
Oh, this was going to be hard... Streak probably wasn't going to quite be able to stay still, but there was no way he was going to refuse Quicksilver this inspection. "G-go ahead, sweetspark. It's okay, Quicksilver, you're welcome to touch me. I'm perfectly willing."  
  
This wasn't scaring Quicksilver quite as badly as he would have expected if he'd been told about this... everything about this was different from his past experiences with anything to do with that equipment. Streak was submitting to him, laying on his back, unafraid, gladly offering himself... he wasn't scared of this, but that wasn't because he was dominating Quicksilver, it was because he thought he was safe.   
Quicksilver was dominant here.   
Quicksilver was safe. Not only that, he was in charge. And... he actually wanted to touch. He was curious. Slowly, he moved to sit between Streak's legs again, his movements hesitant but reasonably confident. He was safe here, and he knew what he wanted. He wanted to keep looking.   
  
Streak dug his claws into the berth pad under him, biting back the moan that wanted to escape. No. He couldn't quite fully respond to that... he'd scare Quicksilver.  
It was torture, though. Streak WANTED to respond, wanted Quicksilver to do more than just lightly inspect his equipment. He was doing his best to repress his frame's responses, but his neglected equipment was responding more than he would have wanted, responding to what seemed like it would lead somewhere very good.   
And after a few minutes, he couldn't resist any more. Raising one servo, Streak attempted to close his legs a bit more, not trying to get away but just trying to get Quicksilver to move his servos for a second. "M-mmh... Quicksilver? I'm sorry, I'm not telling you to stop, but- there's only so much I can do to resist what my frame wants, so I either need you to do a lot more than this, or I need to go and take a very cold shower." he blurted out, his frame trembling slightly from desire and the effort it took to not move.   
  
Oh. Quicksilver squeaked and scooted back, raising his servos in an apology, then bit his lip and glanced away. He... he didn't want to interface with Streak, not right now. Maybe... he was starting to consider it, if Streak was actually willing to let him top, but not now. Not now.   
Though... from what he'd seen, a cold shower at this point... it probably wouldn't be very nice, right? Quicksilver watched the shivering flier for a moment, then got up and ran over to a cabinet, fishing around for something he knew was in there.   
  
Streak took the retreat as a sign that he was going to be taking an ice shower, and he gave an unhappy little noise as he started to get up. Ugh. This wasn't going to be fun, but... he couldn't terrify Quicksilver, and if the little mech didn't want to interface, there was going to be nothing of that kind.   
  
"No, no-" Quicksilver squeaked, grabbing Streak's arm and tugging him to sit down again, licking his lips involuntarily at the heat in Streak's plating. Glancing away, he bit his lip, then quickly pressed the box into Streak's servos before he lost his nerve. "N-no... t-this. I... y-you're p-probably... w-wouldn't t-this f-feel b-better?" he asked, looking up at the larger mech with his wings low but not quite in a terrified pose. He was nervous... not scared, just nervous. He was making an offer... not quite an offer to interface, but... the next best thing, maybe?  
  
"Oh." Streak took the box, looking down at it, then slowly unlatched the lid. "I... yes, I'd definitely p-prefer this, if I may. Uh- d-do I need to go do this in t-the shower?" he asked, not sure what Quicksilver was comfortable with.   
  
Maybe... well, actually... was that a scary idea? No. No it wasn't. Streak touching Quicksilver was a scary idea... Streak touching himself sounded interesting more than anything else. Reaching over, Quicksilver grabbed a blanket and tugged it over to wrap it around himself, then nervously asked his question. "C-can I w-watch?" he squeaked, then ducked his helm and hid, unsure if it was okay for him to ask this.   
  
Oh. That was an unexpected question... Streak tilted his helm, regarding Quicksilver, then nodded slightly as he opened the box. "Yes. I-if you want to, sure, I-I don't have any problems with that." he decided, standing up and moving over to sit in his chair, being sure that Quicksilver could see him.   
  
Quicksilver skittered over to sit in the nest, gathering up a couple of blankets to tuck around himself in a comforting manner.  _No. I'm not going to be nervous. I'm going to watch this, and I'm not going to be afraid, because I don't need to be afraid. This is just something that'll make him feel good, this isn't something that'll hurt me, or anyone. I don't need to be afraid._  he told himself, tilting his helm and pricking his wings slightly. There was nothing to be afraid of here...  
  
  
  
Streak huffed softly and closed the box, sprawled mostly limp in his chair. He'd gotten himself cleaned off, and now he could just melt a bit and enjoy the pleasant sensations still faintly tingling across his frame. "Mmm... Quicksilver, are you okay?"  
  
Quicksilver had hunched further down into the blankets, hiding himself under the fabric, but he wasn't terribly scared. Oh, that... that was an interesting show, definitely. And... lovely. Uncurling a bit, he ventured slightly out of the nest, then tucked back in, unsure. "Y-yes."  
  
"Would you... would you like to come over here?" Streak asked, lazily shifting his hips to the side. "I think there's enough room in this chair for you to not sit on me, if you aren't comfortable in my lap right now..."   
  
"I t-think I'm okay." Quicksilver decided, uncurling and creeping out of the nest with a couple of blankets. Slinking over, he paused for a moment, then climbed into the chair and cuddled up to Streak. Curious, he tilted his helm, looking Streak over for a moment and observing how comfortable he seemed. "You... got all melty." he mumbled, gently poking Streak's servo and watching how limp he was. "S-so... b-better than the shower?"   
  
"Yes, definitely." Streak chuckled, reaching to pet one of Quicksilver's wings. "Much better. Ah... so, did you... learn what you wanted?" he asked softly, looking down at the little mech. "Or did you just want to watch?"   
  
"B-both." Quicksilver squeaked, wiggling his wings gently against Streak's servos and smiling just a fraction. "I... y-you... t-that looked... good." he whispered, then looked up at Streak. "I... r-remember what you offered? I- yes. I... I w-want to... I w-want to i-interf-face. W-with you." he squeaked, then tugged away a bit and shivered. "Not- not n-now. But... later. S-so... y-yes, just l-later. I-if you l-let me top."  
  
Streak leaned down and gently kissed the top of Quicksilver's helm, affectionately rubbing the tips of Quicksilver's wings. "Of course. Just tell me when you're ready." he whispered, gently rubbing the soft silver wings to make sure his little one stayed calm. "I'm perfectly willing to just lay back and let you experiment, or, if you'll give me a little bit of control... I can show you how to make us both feel incredible. But we'll save that for later." he decided, hugging the little mech closer to himself, now reassured that Quicksilver wasn't afraid of him. Good... that hadn't frightened his sweetspark.   
  
Quicksilver squeaked and hid his faceplates in Streak's side, then smiled a bit and relaxed. "O-okay. N-not now, definitely, b-but... soon? I-I think... maybe a f-few w-weeks?" he speculated, peeking up at the larger mech with a shy look.   
  
"I don't need a known date, sweetie. Just tell me when you decide you're comfortable, and we'll enjoy ourselves." Streak chirped, then gently tugged on Quicksilver's frame a bit, coaxing him up to a spot where they could kiss. This time, he did initiate the kiss, deciding that it might be okay to do this... he was quite sure he wouldn't scare Quicksilver by kissing him. He made absolutely sure to let the small thing back away, if he wanted... he would never do anything else.   
  
Quicksilver cooed softly into the kiss, his wings quivering slightly in an apparent gesture of happiness. Yeah... he'd decided that he wanted to interface with Streak. That show had been very... interesting. He wasn't afraid of Streak, not at all, and... he now had reasons to want to interface with the larger mech. It seemed like that would feel good for both of them, so... yes, he wanted that. Not now, later, but... yes. At some point, yes.   
  
Still gently petting the little wings, Streak cradled his sweetspark close, allowing Quicksilver to decide what he wanted to do next. He'd learned over time that it was best to offer Quicksilver as much freedom as possible, letting him choose what he liked... though it did break his spark a little bit when Quicksilver did things like not get himself an energon cube (despite being hungry) because he didn't know if it was okay. Poor little mech apparently wasn't used to good options, or at least he hadn't been before. Streak was doing his best to change that.   
Primus, was he ever glad he'd found Quicksilver, rather than someone else. Poor thing probably wouldn't have done well with someone more frightening, or worse, someone downright dangerous.   
But the little mech was safe now... and, hopefully, he'd be okay.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Quicksilver is actually sorta violent. If you get rid of all his inhibitions (AKA his instinctive mortal terror), there's some anger that crawls out of the back of his mind and manifests itself. He's all giggly and harmless if he's left alone, but if someone's around to set him off (and it doesn't take much at all), things happen that are not good.  
> Unfortunately, Streak is kinda in his way.

There was something Streak wasn't aware of, something that might have been helpful to know. Quicksilver didn't know how to tell the difference between high-grade and the regular-grade Streak's converter manufactured. He usually picked out the cube he'd been drinking by remembering how full it was, as his little tank could just barely hold a full cube when emptied. Unfortunately, one of the high-grade cubes was as full as his cube had been, and he'd just downed basically the entire thing. Absorbed in a puzzle cube, he hadn't noticed the odd taste until he'd taken a good few gulps and gotten a little bit buzzed. By that point, he didn't care any more.   
Hence why he was now sprawled on his back, giggling at nothing in particular and rather clumsily attempting to drink from the mostly-empty cube.   
  
"Quicksilver?" Streak ventured, smiling a bit as he looked down at the little mech. He'd left to look around... what had Quicksilver gotten into? Didn't look like anything bad had happened, Quicksilver was laughing. So... why was he on the floor? "Are you drunk? I think you might have found some of my high-grade."   
  
Quicksilver squeaked up at him, then made a startled little noise and stared at the cube. "Streeeeeak, it tricked meeee!" he whined, pouting and looking sad. "I don't like high-grade. It makes people mean." the little thing growled, yes,  _growled_. "Makes people want to hurt me." he grumbled, his mood abruptly going from mindlessly happy to something much darker.   
  
"Don't worry, little one, I'm not going to hurt you. Here- I think you've had enough of that." Streak crooned, though his optics showed a bit of shock at that tone. Reaching down, he attempted to take the cube away- then gave a startled noise when Quicksilver swiped out and sliced a few marks into his chassis. "Woah, hey- Quicksilver?"   
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME." Quicksilver snarled, scrambling upright and backing away. He was glaring at Streak, wings flared out, every bit of his frame radiating anger and aggression with absolutely no fear present.   
  
Well. Apparently Quicksilver was an angry drunk. That... was a surprise. Streak blinked, startled, then decided to just leave him alone for now. Best not to engage, he needed to figure out what to do. "Alright, little one... I'll leave you alone. Try to relax a bit, you're okay." he soothed, turning away and walking towards the front of the ship. Irrationally angry people shouldn't be challenged, it only made things worse.  
Streak just watched the windows for a moment or two, watching the scenery with his servos clasped behind his back as he thought about what he should do.  
After a minute, though, his thoughts were interrupted by Quicksilver slamming into his back and snapping a pair of rather familiar cuffs shut around his wrists. Too startled to resist, he allowed himself to be shoved down onto his chair, staring up at Quicksilver with wide optics. "Quicksilver? W-what are you doing?"   
  
Quicksilver climbed up into Streak's lap, straddling him and pressing hard on the other mech's shoulders, glaring down at him. "I'm showing you something. I AM NOT OKAY, I WILL NEVER BE OKAY, and I am going to show you why." he growled, pressing down when Streak tried to wriggle.   
  
With his servos behind his back and Quicksilver's full weight pressing his frame on top of his servos, Streak couldn't really get loose. After a moment of squirming got him nowhere, he went still and just watched Quicksilver, a bit worried about what might happen but not scared yet. Quicksilver wasn't a violent mech... then again, high-grade tended to make people do things they would normally never do. "Quicksilver... please let go. You're drunk, little one, you aren't thinking straight. Please don't do anything you'll regret, sweetspark, you aren't thinking straight." he coaxed, then gave a startled little noise when a set of small claws scraped over his crotch plating. "Quicksilver- no."  
  
"'No' doesn't do anything." Quicksilver growled, not releasing his grip despite Streak's squirming. "You tell me everything's okay, you tell me I'm going to be fine, you tell me nobody's going to hurt me- you're WRONG. You don't understand, so I'm going to make you understand this so you'll stop being wrong. I'll show you-" he spat, digging his claws into the plating under his servos in an effort to get it out of his way.  
  
"Quicksilver, no, stop-" Streak protested, now suddenly starting to get quite worried. He knew that Quicksilver normally wouldn't hurt him, but the little mech wasn't thinking straight and actually seemed really mad- he might actually hurt Streak. And that would be bad... not just for obvious reasons. Streak could (probably) deal with a painful interface session, but if Quicksilver woke up the next day and found out he'd hurt Streak like that...  
Streak needed to stop this. Squirming a bit, he got one leg free, bracing his pede against the smaller mech's chassis and firmly pushing him away. "Let. Me. Go."  
  
"That doesn't  _work!"_  Quicksilver snarled, shoving hard on the side of Streak's leg and wrenching the hip joint painfully far to the side in order to get back on top of the larger mech. "Nothing works! Now just hold still- fighting makes it worse." he muttered, reaching down and clawing at Streak's crotch plating in a clumsy effort to detach it. It wasn't really working, he wasn't strong enough to pull the plating off.  
  
"Quicksilver,  _please._ " Streak begged, doing his best to squirm his legs together. "You're going to hate yourself in the morning if you do this, sweetspark... you aren't angry at me, at least not this angry. I'm sorry if I upset you with what I've been saying... I'm just trying to help, and I don't know what to do other than be nice and tell you it's okay." he sighed, continuing in the same tone as he felt Quicksilver pause. "And you're right, I don't understand. I... I can't comprehend what's happened to you, Quicksilver. I try to understand, but... I can't. I just... please don't show me this way, sweetie, that won't do anything but hurt us both. You'll regret this later, sweetspark. Please, just... if you want me to understand, tell me. I'll listen..."   
  
Apparently some of that was getting through the haze. Quicksilver blinked and tilted his helm, then leaned forwards and pressed his front against Streak. "Are you scared?" he whispered, speaking quietly in Streak's audios. "Well, you should be,  _sweetspark_. I could really hurt you doing this, you know. I could."   
  
"I don't think you will, though, little one... I don't think you want to hurt me." Streak crooned, just doing his best to coax Quicksilver to at least not do this. "I know you're upset with me, and I'm sorry about that. You aren't this mad, though, not at me... you're mad at the people who hurt you, and I'm not one of those people. I'm not." he soothed, his optics showing a bit of fear as he spoke. He needed Quicksilver to stop...  
  
Quicksilver blinked and thought for a moment, then reached up and gently patted Streak's helm, his voice starting to slur a bit. "Shush, tiny. 'M not... 'm not gonna hurt chu. I... I like you. Yer nice. Sweet. I like you... make m' feel nice. I don't want... don't want you hurt. I like you being all... inn'cent. Good change." he cooed, patting gently on Streak's chassis. "Sweet mech, nice... inn'cent." he whispered, nuzzling against the other Seeker's neck. "Angel. Sweet angel. I won't... won' hurt 'n angel. Wan' you stayin' inn'cent."   
  
Oh. That was... well, this was a much better situation all of a sudden, but... there was something else. Was that actually what Quicksilver thought of him? Streak blinked a couple of times, surprised, then decided to just be still and ask Quicksilver the next day.   
Hmm- Quicksilver had shifted, and now Streak wasn't pressing so hard on his servos. And these weren't prisoner-keeping cuffs, these were gentle-restraint cuffs. They were padded inside and they weren't all that tight. And he could fix the padding easily enough, so- wriggling a bit, Streak tugged hard on one servo, managing to yank it free. Carefully easing his servos out from behind himself, he gently put his arms around Quicksilver, just softly rubbing between the two little wings. "Thank you..."   
  
Quicksilver's optics were beginning to close, and his frame was starting to go rather limp. "Mmh..." he muttered, nuzzling softly into Streak's neck and shifting to hug the larger mech. "Mmm... y' sm'll nice." he whispered groggily, his optics closing fully as he curled into the other's frame.    
A few minutes later, much to Streak's relief, the tiny Seeker was recharging. Unfortunately, he wasn't moving.   
  
Streak considered moving, then sighed when he realized he'd probably wake Quicksilver up. No, he needed to let the little one recharge... he'd just have to sit there and maybe be uncomfortable. He'd try to recharge.  
  
  
  
Quicksilver woke up to a splitting helmache. Whining softly, he crawled (literally) out of the chair, slinking over to curl up into the nest. Owww... his helm hurt, his tank was roiling, the light hurt his optics, and every sound was far too loud. Mmmh... what was wrong with him? "S-Streak?"  
  
"You apparently drank most of a cube of high-grade. Seems like you can't handle anywhere near that much." Streak explained, standing up and stretching a bit painfully as he tried to get the kinks out of his back and wings. "Just curl up, I'll get something to help..." he promised, dimming the lights and quietly walking over to a cabinet. Withdrawing a tiny cube of a purplish liquid, he crept over to Quicksilver, optics widening a touch in concern when he saw a look of dawning horror in the other's optics. "Quicksilver?"  
  
Quicksilver had noticed the damage... but he wasn't really looking at the scratch marks on Streak's chassis, that was less important. There were claw marks on Streak's crotch plating... Quicksilver whimpered and hid, covering his optics and making worried little noises. "No... no no no." he whispered, desperately hoping that this wasn't what it looked like. "No..."   
  
"No, little one, it's alright." Streak soothed, kneeling and drawing the blanket back. Keeping his voice at a whisper, he rubbed one of Quicksilver's audio fins, trying to reassure him. "It's okay... you didn't hurt me. You gave me a bit of a scare, but these scratches are all you did. It's okay, sweetie, don't worry... I'm not angry or hurt."   
  
Quicksilver whimpered softly, staring up at Streak, then crawled out and weakly tried to hug Streak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm really really sorry..."   
  
"Come here." Streak ordered softly, crawling into the nest and hugging Quicksilver close. "I don't want you to be upset about this. Listen... you be quiet now. Drink this, close your optics, and try not to think about it until later today. We'll talk later, but you're really hungover right now. Right now, all you need to know is that I'm fine and I'm not angry at you." he whispered, holding the tiny cube where Quicksilver could drink from it.  
  
Quicksilver drank the cube, making a bit of a face at the taste, then curled up and whimpered. Okay... he'd rest. He felt too nasty to do anything else. Aside from being sad... he was just going to lay here and be miserable.   
Aside from running over to the shower to throw up when the takeoff was a bit too much for his uneasy fuel tank.   
  
  
Some time later, Streak approached Quicksilver with a small cube of energon, kneeling beside him and smiling softly at the little thing. "Hey, sweetspark... here, can you drink a few sips of this? It might help your tank settle a bit." he coaxed, scooting closer and gently touching Quicksilver's back. "Come on... just a sip or two?"   
  
Quicksilver took a couple of timid little sips, then whined softly and withdrew. Nope, his tank didn't like that... his systems were still more than full of energy, even with the fact that he'd emptied his tank a little while ago. Ugh. Whimpering, he turned sad optics on Streak, his voice slightly hoarse and holding a LOT of sorrow. "S-Streak... I'm s-sorry. I-I'm really, really sorry..." he whispered, reaching up and slowly touching the gashes across the paint in Streak's chassis. "I... please, don't... don't h-hate me, please, don't make me leave..." he begged, wings low on his back in a way that displayed anguish rather than fear.   
  
"Oh, sweetie..." Streak whispered, putting the cube down and scooting closer. Tugging Quicksilver gently into his lap, he cradled the little thing against him, tugging a blanket up to wrap around them both. "No, sweetspark, shh... I don't hate you, Quicksilver, I promise. It's okay, it's okay... you didn't hurt me beyond some scratches. You just scared me a bit. It's okay... it's not your fault. You were drunk, little one, and apparently you have a very low tolerance for high-grade. And I can't blame you for being angry, especially with you being constantly threatened all the time and having no way to let your anger out. Everyone needs an outlet, and it seems your anger only found an outlet when you were drunk. That's not your fault. Look at me, little mech." he ordered, gently taking Quicksilver's helm in both servos and making the small thing look up at him.   
  
Quicksilver gave a little sniffling noise, looking sad, but his wings were beginning to perk just a tiny bit. "I... a-are you... a-are you sure y-you aren't upset? Y-you're... o-okay?"   
  
"Yes, Quicksilver, I'm sure." Streak whispered, then leaned in and gently kissed Quicksilver for a moment before continuing. "You gave me a bit of a scare, but you didn't injure me, and... I don't think you actually wanted to hurt me. From the sound of it, you were upset at me for not fully understanding what you've been through, and you wanted to show me. And you stopped, little one... you said you didn't want to hurt me. You were angry, definitely, but I think you were angry at the people who've hurt you rather than being angry at me. Though... I have something I want to discuss with you. You were mad at me for telling you that you're going to be okay... do you not think that's possible?" he asked, tilting his helm slightly and stroking a gentle servo along Quicksilver's back.   
  
Curling into Streak's lap, Quicksilver relaxed a bit, then sighed and closed his optics at the question. "I, uh... n-no. I d-don't think s-so. I... I-I'm scared... I'm always scared. I can't... I can't get better. I can't." he whispered, curling into a tiny ball and giving a little sobbing noise.   
  
"Aw, sweetie." Streak whispered, kissing one of the elfin audio fins in an effort to calm Quicksilver slightly. "You aren't always scared, remember? You've had nice calm days. Besides... you said you want to interface at some point. That's a good sign, that you want that. Look... I'm not a psychiatrist, and I know you can't just forget everything, but I think you'll be okay. You've learned to trust me, and I think you can learn to trust others. That's why I tell you that you'll be okay... mental wounds heal. Look- I'll show you something."   
Removing a piece of armor, he spread a few bits of muscle cabling apart, displaying a thick scar half-buried in his abdomen. "See that? Turbofox got me when I was little. Looked really bad, I've seen pictures. But it's fine now, see? It doesn't hurt, and it doesn't cause any problems unless somebody messes with it too badly. That... I think that might be what happens with you. I think you'll always have triggers, but I'm certain you'll be fine aside from that. I'm hopeful, even if you aren't. It'll be okay, sweetie, I'm sure of it." he whispered, putting his armor back on and gently stroking Quicksilver's wings.   
  
Quicksilver blinked up at him, a fraction of a little smile beginning to show. Quicksilver wasn't sure he believed Streak, but the other Seeker always sounded believable to him, and... if somebody thought he might be okay, maybe he'd consider the idea of being okay. At least Streak was nice to him...  
Actually... right now, he felt kind of okay. Well- not right now, but recently he'd felt pretty decent. Huh. "O-okay." he mumbled, twitching his wings slightly and taking them out of the horribly upset pose. "I... okay. I-I'll t-try."   
  
"Good." Streak whispered, then sighed softly and continued to gently pet the small wings. "Look... I'll stop making you think soon, but I do have one question for you. I... when you were falling asleep, you said something about... you compared me to an angel. Is that... really how you think of me?" he asked softly, almost hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to ask but certain that he wanted to know. He was never going to get over his curiosity if he didn't ask.   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, shyly glancing away, then slowly met Streak's optics and nodded slightly. "Y-yes..." he whispered, his servos venturing to gently touch Streak's sides in a cautious caress. "You... y-you rescued me from an asteroid, you g-give me everything I c-could ever w-want, you t-treat me so  _gently_... y-you make me feel nice. And... you're... you're so  _innocent._  You d-don't hurt me, you d-don't want to hurt me, you l-look s-so sad when you f-find out t-things that happened to me... I-I've never m-met someone l-like you. And..." the tiny Seeker paused, not sure if he wanted to continue, then made his choice and stroked both servos almost reverently across Streak's wings. "Y-you're beautiful... gorgeous. T-that sounds like an angel t-to m-me." he explained, meeting Streak's optics again and still looking just a tiny bit reverent.   
  
Oh. When Quicksilver put it that way... huh. That description did sound rather like an angel. Streak's petting stopped for a moment, then smiled softly and just cradled Quicksilver against himself for a moment. "Oh... I see. When you put it that way, I guess I do sound a bit like an angel... and, honestly, I think I somewhat like that description. It's... really sweet. I wish I wasn't the first person to be this nice to you, though... here, little one, let me hold you for a minute." Streak coaxed, then winced and shifted slightly as his back twinged. His back and shoulders were quite stiff, thanks to his uncomfortable position while recharging. Ow. He'd try to hide it, though, Quicksilver didn't need to feel guilty again.   
  
Quicksilver noticed, though. Streak had tensed up, and Quicksilver felt it. Optics going from tentative happiness to worry again, he whined softly, drawing back out of fear that he'd hurt Streak.   
  
"No, no, it's alright-" Streak reached out to stop him, then winced slightly and hissed a bit. "Aah- it's okay, Quicksilver, I'm not hurt. I'm just stiff... this is why I don't recharge in my chair, normally, I squirm into odd positions and wake up with my back in knots. You didn't hurt me. Though- can you help me with this? You might be able to loosen my back up a bit... would you mind trying?" Streak asked, laying down on his front and rather painfully stretching out.   
  
Quicksilver still had a guilty look in his optics as he watched how stiffly Streak was moving, and he immediately placed both servos on Streak's upper back, removing a few pieces of armor. After removing everything that got in his way, the little mech paused for a moment, then cautiously ran his servos down Streak's back in an effort to figure this out.   
  
"There- that's the idea, little one." Streak encouraged, his frame visibly relaxing at the warm touches. Mmm... yes. He hadn't been expecting the armor removal, but he wasn't complaining.   
  
Quicksilver continued to gently stroke for a minute or two, just running his servos up and down the length of Streak's back, then pressed a bit harder with his palms on one stroke. When that was greeted by an encouraging little noise, he did it again, smiling as he felt some of the tension release. Streak liked this? Good... maybe he could do this more often and try to make it better. It didn't matter what Streak said, Quicksilver still felt terrible about attacking the sweet Seeker who'd been so very careful with him. Maybe he could try... ah, there. Smiling a tiny bit, he began to gently rub the half-exposed bases of Streak's wings, then actually grinned a bit when Streak moaned softly and fluttered his wings. That was definitely a good noise, and a gesture of pleasure. This was good...   
  
Streak arched up into the touch slightly, fluffing his remaining armor and purring happily. Quicksilver wasn't terribly skilled, true, but the gentle little servos felt so nice... Streak needed attention, really, his back was a bit stiff and definitely rather neglected. "Bit to the right... then a bit harder." he whispered, then sighed happily and went limp when Quicksilver obliged. "Mmmh... just like that, sweetspark, just like that. That feels good, little one... feels really good."   
  
Quicksilver took a few minutes to loosen the cabling in Streak's lower back, then rather cautiously moved to straddle that portion of the other's frame. Streak didn't protest, so Quicksilver continued from this new angle, paying special attention to those pretty wings. Streak made pleased noises whenever Quicksilver pressed just right, and it was frankly rather adorable. Quicksilver liked this. "S-Streak? C-can I... do this later? Again? I-I like it..."   
  
"Of course... it feels lovely." Streak sighed happily, flaring his wings a bit more for more touches. "Mmm... thank you for this, sweetspark..."   
  
Quicksilver smiled, then just continued the gentle attempts at a massage, his servos dipping gently into whatever joints looked like they might be touch-sensitive.   
After a little while, that had devolved into something more along the lines of random touching and petting. Streak wasn't complaining, so this was good. And, hmm... tilting his helm slightly, Quicksilver slowly lay down on Streak's back, his lightweight frame settling into Streak's like he was just another part of Streak's frame. They fit together quite well... and this was comfy.   
  
Streak smiled and reached back to pull a blanket up over them both, turning his helm to look up at Quicksilver. "You're nice and warm, little one... I think we should do this more often." he cooed, arching gently up into Quicksilver's frame for a moment. "What do you think of that?"   
  
Shutting his optics, Quicksilver abandoned his attempts to function and just nuzzled into the back of Streak's neck. "Mffh. Y-yes, but... n-no h-helmache next time." he mumbled, wings flicking unhappily and then going still.   
  
"Aw... not feeling so good, huh?" Streak crooned, gently taking Quicksilver's servo and tugging it over in front of himself. Gently, he began to massage the back of Quicksilver's servo, trying to help ease his discomfort in some way. "I'd try to help, but I'm afraid I don't have many hangover cures aside from what I just gave you. Well... I do have one other cure, but... I don't think you'd like it."  
  
"Mmh... I feel nastyyy..." Quicksilver whined, then sighed and turned his helm to the side. "I... w-what is it? I'll do j-just about a-anything."   
  
"Well... you're feeling like this because you have a bit of an energy conversion issue. The effect of high-grade comes from the fact that you're having a lot of energy dumped into your systems at once. This is sort of a cooldown period, but you still have too much energy, and it's starting to cause issues by now. If we can get rid of the extra energy, it'll help. I know you don't feel up to anything that involves much exertion, and... normally I would suggest an overload or two that doesn't involve much effort on your part. I'm guessing you'd rather not do that, though..."   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, whining softly at the thought, then blinked and tried to gather up enough brainpower to actually consider the idea. Hang on now... was he just reacting to the initial suggestion, or did he actually not want this? "I... um... w-what exactly... w-what do you m-mean?" he asked softly, his voice very soft but not quite as frightened as he could sound. "I-I'm n-not saying y-yes, but... I... c-can you t-tell m-me?"   
  
Streak pressed his wings gently up into Quicksilver's frame, now just gently rubbing circles on the back of the tiny mech's servo with two fingertips. "Alright... sure. I'll tell you what I'd do if you wanted this, okay? You just listen, and maybe consider the idea of accepting. If you say yes, I'll make you feel wonderful. If you say no, that's just fine." he soothed, then lightly kissed the back of Quicksilver's servo before continuing.   
"If you said yes to me, I'd get you all set up somewhere comfortable... maybe just get you in my chair and tuck a nice soft blanket around you. And then I'd begin petting you, starting at your wings and working my way down until I was stroking those pretty silver thighs, nice and slow so I could be sure to soothe away any little bits of fear. I'd probably be nuzzling your stomach, maybe nipping just a bit to see if you like that. I'd never really bite down, just little nips- like this."   
Pausing for a second, Streak nipped very gently at some of the exposed cabling in Quicksilver's wrist, demonstrating.   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, his wings quivering as he listened. This... this was actually sounding like something he'd like to experience. Streak's voice was calm, soft, so very gentle... he sounded so nice. Quicksilver was actually interested in this... maybe he'd consider saying yes. But he'd wait and hear the rest of this...  
  
"And then, once you were nice and relaxed, I'd start trying to get you to retract your panel... if you said it was okay, I'd probably use my servos and my mouth, just gently coaxing until you were ready to open up for me. After that, I'd let you decide which of your internal panels you wanted open... or you could open both, I can work with that. I think I'd like to use my mouth, especially... I want to see how you taste, and I think you'd love the feeling. I'd go slowly, gently, just coaxing you into an overload, and then I'd give you a few minutes to gather yourself back up. If you let me, I think I'd just scoot into the chair next to you and slowly pet your wings until you were coherent again. And then, I think I'd ask you if you'd like another overload... I'd see if you wanted me to do it again. If you wanted another overload, I'd maybe go just a bit faster, to see what you think of that. And the entire time, I'd just be so gentle with you... I know you're really nervous about interface, and so I'd just give you as much pleasure as possible until you felt too wonderful to be afraid. I'd make you feel so good, Quicksilver... and after we were done, I'd curl up in the chair with you, and we could just snuggle and pet each other until you feel better. An overload or two would burn off a lot of energy, so you'd mostly just be tired out instead of this sick. And I think you'd absolutely love the feeling of everything..."   
Propping himself up slightly to look over his shoulder at Quicksilver, Streak offered him a gentle smile, still just gently rubbing Quicksilver's servo. "How does that sound, sweetspark? Would you like that?" he asked softly, then gently tugged Quicksilver's servo up to gently nuzzle it again. "It's your choice, of course... if you aren't comfortable with that, you can say no, I won't be upset. Just think on it a bit, will you?"  
  
Oh. That... that sounded...   
Quicksilver's little engines rumbled softly and he licked his lips, wings quivering slightly as he stared down at Streak. On the one servo, he still didn't like the idea of being touched... there. On the other servo... Streak's voice, and the tone he was using... and the way he was talking, just gently promising to make Quicksilver feel good... he was making this sound an awful lot like something Quicksilver would enjoy. It was... sort of tempting.   
Sliding off of Streak's back, Quicksilver rolled over to present his front to the other Seeker, just watching him through squinted optics for a moment. "I... I think I l-like t-that idea..." he stammered, then whined a bit and pressed his legs together. "N-not... n-not here." he squeaked, covering the lower portion of his crotch panel with both servos. "I d-don't want- n-not there. B-but... I t-think... m-maybe? A-actually- I t-think I w-want... mmh... I-I don't know."  
  
Streak hummed softly and began to gently stroke the tips of those trembling wings, his voice soft. "I'll tell you what... I'll start by just petting you like this, and I'll work my way down to your interface panel. Now... you tell me if I make you too nervous. If you want to stop at any point, you tell me, Quicksilver. I don't want you to be scared... I want to make you feel nice." the little mech purred, scooting closer and continuing to gently pet Quicksilver's wings. He'd just start petting and see if he could coax Quicksilver to relax... if Quicksilver didn't relax, though, Streak would stop. And, of course, he would stop immediately if Quicksilver told him to.   
Very gently, he began to work his way down Quicksilver's frame, then hummed and leaned down to softly nip at Quicksilver's stomach as he continued petting the slender little frame.   
  
Quicksilver was trying to relax, he was, but... every time he started to relax and just melt into the attention, he remembered why he was trying to relax, and then he would tense right back up again. He was trying so hard to relax, though... Streak obviously wanted to do this, and Quicksilver wanted to do anything he could for Streak. Also... this might feel good.   
  
Streak worked his way gently down Quicksilver's frame, then very gently nuzzled the edge of the tiny mech's codpiece. One servo resting on Quicksilver's side, he sighed softly, then carefully lay down right next to the little thing. "You're frightened, little one... I don't think you want this." he whispered, putting an arm around Quicksilver in hopes of calming the nervous shivering. Not only had Quicksilver not relaxed, he'd started shivering again, occasionally giving tiny little whimpers whenever Streak moved too suddenly. "We probably shouldn't continue..."   
 _And I probably shouldn't have tried this in the first place. That was a very shaky maybe... I should have asked, not just tried to calm him by starting slowly. Oh dear... I'm going to have to be careful of this, or I might end up pushing him into something he's not at all comfortable with. Urges, could you please stop asking me to interface with Quicksilver? I can't push him into anything... I just can't. It's cruel._  
  
Mistaking the tinge of regret in Streak's optics for some form of disappointment, Quicksilver bit his lip and pressed closer, tentatively venturing a leg over Streak's frame and slowly arching his hips against the other's frame. "N-no, I... I-I'm a-alr-right..." he whispered, trying to get Streak to continue. If Streak wanted this, he was going to do his best to let it happen... it wasn't like this was going to hurt, right? "G-go ah-head..."  
  
"I can't, sweetspark..." Streak sighed, doing his best to not react to the increased touching. "You're shaking enough that I can barely understand you, Quicksilver, you're obviously afraid. So... why are you saying yes?"   
  
"I... i-it's w-what y-you w-want, r-right? I... I w-want t-to m-make you h-happy." Quicksilver whispered, looking up at Streak and still not pulling away. "A-and... y-you s-said it m-might m-make my h-helm s-stop h-hurting..."   
  
Streak's optics widened slightly, then he reached down and very gently pried Quicksilver's leg away from himself, tucking it up against the tiny Seeker's frame instead. "No... Quicksilver, this isn't... I don't want you doing things like this just because you think I'll like it! This-" pausing, Streak hovered a servo over Quicksilver's codpiece, not quite touching. "This panel should not be open unless you're certain you're going to enjoy what's about to happen. If you're nervous or unsure, it stays closed. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise, ever. And... I'm sorry I pushed you into this."  
  
Quicksilver blinked and tilted his helm slightly, then scooted down and reached for Streak's codpiece. "T-then... a-at least l-let m-me d-do this..." he whispered, gently touching the still-scratched plating and waiting for Streak to retract it.   
  
"I... what? No, Quicksilver..." Streak sighed, then sat up and gently tugged Quicksilver into his lap. Gently holding Quicksilver's servos to keep him from getting away, he met the smaller mech's optics, his voice soft but slightly commanding. "You do not do anything interface-related unless it's because you actually want to. If you decide to interface with someone, it should be because you want to share pleasure. No other reason. Okay, sweetie? If you want to do something for me, we can think of something else. Right now, I really think you need to just curl up and close your optics... it'll probably help you feel better." he coaxed, gently placing a servo over Quicksilver's optics. "Just relax... don't worry about anything right now, we can put all that on hold until you feel better. You get some rest, sweetspark."   
  
"But... b-but I..." Quicksilver whimpered, then closed his optics and curled up in Streak's lap, deciding to take the advice. He'd just do this... maybe he'd try to recharge. He couldn't really think right now, so... yes. He'd rest.  
  
 _Poor thing..._  Streak sighed, pulling a blanket up around Quicksilver to help keep him comfortable and block out the light.  _I'm going to have to be careful with him... I have to keep myself in check, even if he's starting to open up. I absolutely cannot risk pushing him into anything that'll scare him or make him uncomfortable. And... if he was so determined to make me happy that he was willing to endure something that scared him that much... has anything else been just because he wants to keep me happy? What does he think is going to happen if I'm unhappy with him? Does he think I'm going to kick him off the ship?_  
Gently kissing the top of Quicksilver's helm, Streak hummed gently, though his mind was anything but calm.  _Oh, sweetie... I won't kick you off my ship. You're okay, little one... it's okay. I'm going to have to talk to you when you're feeling better... I need to be sure you know it's okay to say no, even if I want to hear a different answer._  
  
  
Some time later, Quicksilver blinked and gave a small chirping noise, waking up to find himself upside-down in Streak's lap with his legs around the other's chassis. "Oh. Hello." he chirped, then wiggled around until he got himself right side up. "Meh. Shower." he decided, standing up and staggering over to the shower area.   
  
"May I join you?" Streak called, getting up and stretching leisurely. "I'd like to talk to you, if I may... we have some important things to discuss."   
  
"Okay." Quicksilver decided, leaning against the wall as he turned the shower on. He looked a bit nervous, though... what did Streak want to discuss with him? Was Streak mad at him for something? "I... i-is something wrong?"   
  
"Well... actually, yes. Somewhat." Streak sighed, joining Quicksilver in the shower area and gently touching his upper back. "Here... I'll help you, if I may. Relax, little one, you haven't done anything. I just... I need to talk to you. You were going to let me do something that made you incredibly nervous, simply because you wanted to keep me happy... I don't want you to do that, ever. I just... can you tell me why you thought you should do that?"   
  
Quicksilver flared his armor to let Streak get under it, then tensed a bit and pressed himself into a corner, trying to get some comfort. "I... I t-thought... y-you're so  _nice_ , I want to d-do things for you. I... y-you weren't g-going to h-hurt me, so... I w-was t-trying to d-do what you wanted."   
  
Streak sighed, very gently tugging Quicksilver out of the corner and turning it around. Stroking a cloth gently over the thin plating, he spoke gently, meeting Quicksilver's optics as much as possible. "Listen to me. If something makes you uncomfortable, you tell me. I do not want to make you upset. What I wanted was to make you feel good, but I can't do that if you're tense and scared. Now... if you want to do things for me, I have some ideas for things you should be comfortable with. Okay?"   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip and tried to look away, upset and somewhat ashamed. "I-I'm sorry... I just... I w-want to make you h-happy. I'm s-sorry."   
  
"And I thank you for that, Quicksilver... it's sweet. I just... if you're going to do something for me, I want it to be something you're comfortable with, preferably something you like." Streak purred, then sighed and gently turned Quicksilver's helm back towards him. "And, on that thread... Quicksilver, do you think something bad is going to happen if you don't keep me happy with you?"   
  
The tiny Seeker lowered his wings slightly, thinking for a moment, then shuttered his optics and whimpered softly. "I j-just... I... i-it n-never goes w-well for m-me when p-people are unh-happy... I-I'm s-sorry, I don't t-think y-you're g-going to h-hurt me, b-but I'm s-scared, I-I'm s-sorry- mmh-"   
  
"Shh." Streak whispered, then leaned in and firmly kissed Quicksilver to quiet him, gently stroking the tips of those pretty wings. Humming softly, he tugged the little mech closer, waiting a moment to be sure Quicksilver was calmed down slightly. When he felt the tension relax, he leaned back and offered Quicksilver a gentle smile, trying to be as soothing as possible. "Listen to me, sweetie. I understand that you're scared, and that's okay. I will not hurt you for being scared, and it doesn't upset me. And... I'm not sure what you could do to make me unhappy with you, but if you did manage it, I still wouldn't hurt you. I don't tend to get upset at people, and I forgive quickly if I do. The worst I'll do is not talk to you for a day or two. I'm not going to starve you, I'm not going to kick you off my ship... I will not hurt you in any way, and I will not abandon you. You have a safe place here on this ship for as long as you want it, no matter what you do. You don't need to try to please me." he soothed, then stroked Quicksilver's wings one last time before pulling him into a hug. "Besides... you trust me, you let me court you even though I make you nervous sometimes... that alone makes me very happy."   
  
Quicksilver blinked, then sniffled softly and leaned into Streak, his vents starting to hitch in a familiar pattern. Whimpering, he buried his neck in Streak's collar assembly, starting to cry softly from a combination of relief and something to do with the fact that he was wanted for something GOOD. Streak wasn't going to hurt him, Streak wanted him for good things... no, no, he didn't need to cry- biting his lip, Quicksilver tried to rein in his crying, his frame shaking with half-restrained sobs.   
  
"Aw... Quicksilver, it's alright... don't fight, you can cry. Just relax and let it out... you'll feel better for it, I think." Streak hummed, then blinked and considered something for a moment. "Little one, I have an idea. I think I know something you can do for me, and you should enjoy it as well." he mused, then slowly sat down and pulled Quicksilver into his lap.   
A few minutes later, once Quicksilver's sobs had dwindled into little sniffling noises, Streak hummed and softly nuzzled the top of Quicksilver's helm. "Hey, sweetie. You're comfortable touching me, right? Well, I was thinking maybe I could teach you a few simple massage tricks... then maybe I'd strip down and let you put that to use. I want you to be honest, now... are you comfortable with the idea of touching me when I'm not wearing much armor? I'd be laying on my front, and I probably wouldn't be doing much other than purring."   
  
Quicksilver sniffled once more, then blinked, looking up at him. "I... o-okay, sure. T-that s-sounds nice..." he decided, then looked out the shower door. "M-maybe... should we m-make it dark in h-here, or... is there anyt-thing we s-should do to make it nice in h-here? I... I r-really want to make you feel n-nice."   
  
"You mean something to set the mood? Sure, sweetie... I have some ideas, and I think I have a few things we can use. You stay in here and finish getting cleaned up, then come out when you're ready." Streak hummed, standing up and walking out of the shower area.   
  
  
When Quicksilver opened the door, he stopped for a moment in surprise, then smiled a bit and stepped out into the main area. Oh, this looked... this looked nice. Smiling softly, he cautiously approached his shipmate, his wings starting to perk slightly in response to the wonderfully calm environment around him.  
  
It was now somewhat dark in the ship, but it was still nice and warm. Soft Cybertronian music was playing from somewhere, and there was a faint smell of something Quicksilver couldn't quite identify, something nice. Streak had laid out a thin berthpad and a blanket on the floor, and he was sitting on the corner, smiling softly up at Quicksilver. "Here... come over and lay down, I'll show you a few things. Are you comfortable with me removing some of your back armor?" he asked, making a bit of a show of stretching his servos. He was trying to choreograph his movements and make it clear what he intended to do, in order to not startle Quicksilver with anything.   
  
Quicksilver looked the situation over for a moment, then nodded slightly and stretched out on the pad, looking up at Streak with soft optics that didn't hold too much fear. He was about as comfortable as was possible for him in a being-touched situation. That wasn't terribly comfortable, truthfully, but it was better than being scared. "S-sure..." he chirped, then flared his armor out to let Streak get it off. "Here, g-go ahead."   
  
Streak smiled and gently removed a piece of Quicksilver's back armor, then slid a servo under another piece of armor and eased it away. "I like to start like this... just ease the armor away, rubbing gently under it until the latches more or less release on their own." he whispered, explaining what he was doing so Quicksilver could learn. "Right now, the point of this is just to get someone to relax... any sort of gentle strokes and rubs that they like can work just fine for this part. Here- does this smell okay?" he asked, holding a tin of what looked like wax near Quicksilver's helm. "It's meant to be rubbed into muscle cables to help ease soreness from exertion. It feels nice for massages, too... it's a favorite indulgence of mine. You okay with smelling like this?"   
At a tiny nod, he hummed softly and removed the few remaining pieces of back armor, then dabbed some of the wax onto one servo. Rubbing his servos together, he made sure they were nice and warm, then placed both servos on the other mech's back and gently ran both servos up Quicksilver's spine.   
  
Quicksilver squeaked at the tingling warmth, then cooed happily when those gentle servos stroked around his wing bases. Oh, yes... cooing, he wriggled his wings in a gesture of delight, then went still and just purred softly as Streak worked.   
  
Streak continued to gently massage the delicate muscle cables under his servos, occasionally talking to Quicksilver and giving him simple instructions. He was trying not to break the half-trance Quicksilver had been coaxed into, though, he wanted to keep his sweetspark nice and relaxed.   
  
After some time, Streak gently rested his servos on the back of Quicksilver's neck and a spot just above the skinny mech's hips, raising his voice from its previous soft hum to something more like his "good morning!" tone. "Alright, little one... can you stay awake for me?" he cooed, looking down at the half-melted Seeker.   
  
"Muh." Quicksilver responded, then rolled over and blinked up at Streak, smiling and looking pleasantly relaxed. After a moment or two to relax, he sat up, then scooted to the side and patted his previous spot. "Here- I wanna try, please? I-I m-might not be very good, but... I want to try."   
  
"So long as you don't stab me with your claws, anything you try should feel nice. This isn't terribly difficult, after you learn a few tricks and figure a couple of things out. And I'm happy to help you learn... here, do as you wish." Streak hummed, laying down and flaring his armor invitingly. "Oh, and you're welcome to sit on whatever part of me you wish, short of my wings. You're lightweight."   
  
After removing Streak's back plating (it took a few minutes, Quicksilver wasn't quite sure of the best method), Quicksilver rubbed his servos together for a moment or two, coating them in the tangy-smelling wax. _Okay... this shouldn't be too hard, right? Just... nice firm strokes. Right?_  
Placing both servos on Streak's back, he ran them firmly up the larger mech's spine, then smiled a bit when Streak hummed in pleasure.  _Good sound... maybe I have something right._  
  
  
Quite some time after they'd started, both little mechs were pleasantly relaxed and had basically just melted into each other on the mat. Both smelt pleasantly of the wax, and both were quite happy.   
  
Streak gently nuzzled Quicksilver's neck, then smiled and leaned back a bit, looking into those half-closed optics. "I wanted to show you something other than the massage, though that's fun. I wanted you to see that there are forms of physical intimacy that don't involve interface... isn't this nice?"   
  
Quicksilver's reply was basically nonverbal, just a little "Murrrlf." noise. Smiling, he looked down at the larger mech currently nuzzling his chassis, then sniffled and made just a tiny whimpering noise.   
  
"Aw, sweetspark- is something wrong?" Streak asked, propping himself up on his elbows, then blinked and made a startled noise when Quicksilver wrapped both arms around him and hugged him tight. "I... are you crying? Little one... what's wrong?" he asked, then relaxed a tiny bit when Quicksilver went limp and Streak saw that the tiny silver mech was smiling slightly. "Aw... so, nothing's quite wrong?"   
  
"N-no..." Quicksilver whispered, then smiled and hid his faceplates in Streak's chassis. "I j-just... you m-make me so h-happy... I don't- I just- mmh-" he whimpered, half-crying and unable to find the right words. "I... I j-just... t-thank you, m-more than- I d-don't- words..."   
  
"I get it. You don't need to find words, little one, it's fine." Streak whispered, then gently tugged his tiny shipmate up and kissed him in order to hush him. Leaning away after a moment, he stroked the pretty audio fins, then smiled when Quicksilver offered him a timid smile. "Aw... you're welcome." he whispered, then blinked when he heard Quicksilver's cooling fans click on.   
  
Quicksilver squeaked, mortified, then whined and bit his lip. "I-I'm s-sorry." he whispered, pressing his legs together, not quite certain why this was happening or if it was okay. "I d-don't... I... w-what?"   
  
"It's fine, sweetie..." Streak cooed, gently stroking Quicksilver's audio fins again. "Sometimes, if someone is used to a lot of stress and fear, situations involving a lot of positive physical contact can convince their frame that it's a good idea to interface now. If it's just your fans going off, that should settle down on its own. I'm guessing you'd prefer that, right?"   
  
"Muh." Quicksilver squeaked, nodding, then sighed and closed his optics. "I... I k-kind of... w-when w-we do... y-you know... i-interface... c-can it b-be like t-this?" he asked, gesturing around the room with one servo. "I... t-this is... r-really nice." the tiny mech explained, blinking shyly up at Streak. "I-it just feels r-really, r-really safe..."   
  
"Mmm... of course. This is a good ambiance for most gently intimate situations, I've found... it's soft, soothing, just this lovely, calm, safe place. Which is how I'd like you to feel when you decide you're ready, sweetspark... calm and safe."   
  
"I... t-that's... t-that's  _you_." Quicksilver whispered, nuzzling gently into Streak's neck in order to inhale the other's scent. To anybody else, Streak would probably have just smelled like a random person. To Quicksilver, though, that scent meant something else. It meant safety, it meant security, and it meant that he was with someone who was going to make him actually feel  _good_  about himself.  In fact... Quicksilver nervously quivered his wings, gathering his nerve as he thought about something for a moment. He felt wonderful right now, and... Streak would never hurt him, Streak would always just make him feel good...   
He wanted... he wanted to interface with Streak. And... right now, the way he felt... his instincts were no longer telling him to get away. In fact, a different instinct was beginning to stir, one that had formerly been mostly suppressed by fear.  
  
"Hmm?" Streak looked down at little Quicksilver, noticing that the tiny mech seemed to be about to say something.   
  
Before Quicksilver could speak, though, he was interrupted by a crash that shook the entire ship. It was probably an asteroid strike, but Quicksilver didn't know that, and it had unfortunately frightened him out of his relaxed state. Squeaking, the little mech huddled into Streak's frame, then whimpered softly when Streak pulled away and ran over to the control panel. "Mmh- S-Streak?"   
  
"Don't worry, Quicksilver- it's probably just an asteroid." Streak called, checking the control panel for a moment or two. "No major damage... deep dent, but that's it. Nothing to fear, little one, you can relax."   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip and nodded, then sighed and curled into himself. Well... his spark was racing again. He couldn't bring himself to state his desire... not now. He was scared again, even if it wasn't too bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That worked out rather well. 
> 
> Do I need to change the warning for this one to attempted noncon? I put dubcon in the warnings because Streak isn't exactly protesting for himself. He's not terribly fond of what's going on, but very little of it is fear for himself. He's mostly just trying to stop Quicksilver from doing something he'll really regret in the morning.   
> I'll change it if anyone thinks I should.


	10. New Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver offers something, Streak is a bit torn about accepting it.   
> He ends up accepting.   
> Nice things happen. 
> 
> Also, new people show up. They complicate things.   
> Quicksilver is not happy about this development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a few days after the end of the previous chapter.

"Streak... I wanna try something." Quicksilver whispered, gently tugging on Streak's arm until he got the larger mech tugged over to their shared nest. He'd already turned the lights down, and there was a nice soft song playing from the music player.   
  
Streak obliged, laying down on his back at Quicksilver's gentle urging, then smiled softly and reached up to gently brush two fingertips across the little one's cheek. Oh... looked like Quicksilver wanted to give him some attention. "You're sweet. Thank you." he purred, making himself comfortable and shuttering his optics as he felt Quicksilver's servos on his sides. He'd take any sort of attention Quicksilver was willing to give... though it might be a bit of a challenge to stay relaxed if Quicksilver touched anywhere below his waist. It had been a long time since Streak had interfaced with anyone, not counting the attention the Seeker had given himself, and his frame could tell the difference between that and him interfacing with another mech. There was a point where a Cybertronian's frame would start demanding that they interface with another person, and anything that didn't involve at least some energy exchange wouldn't satisfy that demand.   
But he wasn't going to interface with Quicksilver without being absolutely sure the other mech wanted this, no matter if Quicksilver's servos had just started to venture across his thighs...   
  
Quicksilver had started with just a massage, trying to build his nerve a bit for what he was about to do. After a few minutes, he'd worked his way down to Streak's thighs, and he was slowly stroking his fingertips over the other mech's outer thighs. Edging a bit closer, he slowly stroked along two thin armor gaps that ran down Streak's inner thighs, tensing slightly when the other mech inhaled sharply.   
  
 _Oh._  Okay, that could not possibly be accidental. Streak hissed slightly, twitching all over, then propped himself up on his elbows and stared at Quicksilver in surprise. "L-little one? What are you doing?" he asked, though his voice sounded a bit strained, as he was fighting to keep his systems from eagerly responding to what seemed like an offer.  
  
Quicksilver shifted a bit until he was laying on his stomach, propped up on one arm, one servo resting on Streak's inner thigh. Biting his lip, he slowly slid his fingers up the inside of Streak's thigh, then gently touched the larger mech's codpiece. "I... o-open?" he whispered, licking his lips in what looked like probably a nervous gesture. "L-let me try something."   
  
"Quicksilver..." Streak sighed, looking down at the little mech, then bit his lip when his cooling fans clicked on. "No- ignore that. I told you, little one, I don't want to do anything like this with you unless it's for your pleasure as well as mine... you don't owe me anything, sweetie."   
  
"I k-know..." Quicksilver whispered, then gently traced a fingertip along the rapidly warming plating under his servos. "But... y-you want to interface with me, a-and I want to make you feel nice. I d-don't think I can i-interface with you, n-not yet, b-but I want to do this i-instead. I... I really want to, p-please? Y-you won't h-hurt me on purpose, and... I d-don't think you'll m-make me feel b-bad. So... I w-want to." he explained, then leaned down and nuzzled softly against the other mech's inner thigh, his optics wide but showing no fear. He wasn't afraid of Streak, and his instincts were reasonably calm right now. Streak was on his back, submissive, and nobody was touching Quicksilver. No claws digging into his helm plating, no one gripping his audio fins, nobody forcing him to do anything... just him with Streak laid out in front of him. There was nothing bad here. "I-it's okay, Streak. I want to."   
  
 _No... I-I can't. I shouldn't take this offer, he's just doing it out of some kind of obligation... I CANNOT take this offer._  Streak shuttered his optics for a moment, then looked down at Quicksilver again, biting his lip as he saw the little one's faceplates. No fear in those optics... Quicksilver didn't look worried, upset, or reluctant. He just looked... earnest, really.  _But... he doesn't look like it. He doesn't look eager, not really, but he doesn't look afraid. And he's offered me things in the past, tried to make me feel nice. Maybe he **does**  want to do this just to make me feel good. It seemed like he was enjoying my reactions when he was giving me that massage... he might not get any physical pleasure out of this, but he might like my reactions, right? And... if I take this offer, it might help convince my equipment that I can wait longer to actually interface with him. And... Primus, I REALLY want to take this offer. I... I think I will. I just have to ask him..._   
Streak reached down and gently caressed Quicksilver's audio fins, his voice soft but just a bit shaky. "Quicksilver... I'll tell you what. I'll take your offer, but... if you get uncomfortable at all, if you change your mind at any point, you stop. Understand?"   
  
"I-I will." Quicksilver nodded, then shifted so that he could place both servos on the insides of Streak's thighs, easing his legs apart a bit more. Edging closer, he nuzzled gently against Streak's codpiece, waiting for the larger mech to retract his plating.   
  
Streak retracted his outer plating, pausing for a moment, then retracted his inner plating and gave Quicksilver a gentle smile. "Thank you for this, little one."   
  
Quicksilver smiled slightly, then blinked and looked a bit confused, tilting his helm slightly. That wasn't what he'd expected... it was Streak's valve plating that was retracted. "I... I-I'm sorry, I d-don't really know... t-this isn't w-what I usually... I w-want to m-make you feel n-nice, a-and... I really don't w-want to h-hurt you. I... I don't know how..."   
  
Streak lightly stroked his fingertips up the edge of Quicksilver's wing, trying to calm him down slightly. "I thought you'd prefer this... don't worry, sweetie, it's not too difficult. If you're comfortable with this, I can try to focus enough to give you a bit of guidance. And... don't worry about hurting me, little one, you aren't going to hurt me unless you bite me. Valves aren't that delicate as long as there are no sharp objects involved. Now... are you comfortable trying this, or would you prefer something else?"   
  
Well... actually, Quicksilver was willing to try that. Sure. "I... I-I'll try. J-just... t-tell me what I can do to m-make you feel g-good." he whispered, then licked his lips and perked his wings as he became aware of a new scent. Oh... that smelled pretty good. Come to think of it... that might taste nice, too. He should find out.  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Come here... come here." Streak whispered, gently tugging on Quicksilver's arm until he got the little mech up next to him. Hugging Quicksilver close, he nuzzled the other mech's audio fin, his frame relaxed all over. "Mmm... again, thank you. That felt lovely, little one..."   
  
Quicksilver purred in delight, optics wide and bright as he saw Streak's expression. Streak looked happy, really happy, and he was so relaxed... smiling softly, Quicksilver cuddled up against the larger mech, wearing a blissful little smile of his own. "Y-you're w-welcome. I... I liked that. I made you feel g-good, it d-didn't hurt me, a-and... y-you, um, y-you taste n-nice." he squeaked, then blushed slightly and hid his faceplates in Streak's chassis. "Um... I... s-sorry."   
  
"Mmm... don't apologize, that's a compliment." Streak chuckled, gently rubbing Quicksilver's upper back. "You're sweet. And I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, little one... I was hoping you would." he crooned, then blinked as he saw a delighted little smile on Quicksilver's faceplates. "Now... why do you look like something incredible just happened to you?" he asked, a bit confused but definitely pleased. Quicksilver was happy, Streak was relaxed... win/win.  
  
"I..." Quicksilver blinked, not sure how to explain this, then smiled softly and looked down at Streak. "I... you're a-all relaxed... you look r-really happy. And... I d-did this. I m-made you f-feel good... i-it makes me feel really nice." he whispered, pressing both servos against the plating over his chassis. "I... I l-love it. Can I... c-can I do t-that again?" the tiny mech asked, tilting his helm slightly and looking hopeful. He really did want to repeat this... that blissful look on Streak's faceplates was so  _nice_ , and it was making Quicksilver's spark flutter happily in his chassis. In fact, his spark's usual rapid beat was beginning to calm again, soothed by how lovely everything was right now.   
  
"Aw..." Streak cooed, reaching up to gently stroke the other mech's wingtips. "If you liked that, I don't have any reason to refuse... and I'm glad I was able to make you feel nice in some way. Also..." he paused, stroking his servos down to place his fingertips gently on two joints in Quicksilver's chassis armor in order to feel the other's sparkbeat. "Your sparkbeat seems to be a lot calmer now... normally it feels like you're about to either bolt or pass out. This is much better... we should figure out what helped calm you down so much, I want to keep you relaxed."  
  
Oh, he already knew what had him this calm... "You." Quicksilver whispered, nuzzling into the other mech's chassis as he spoke. "E-everything you do to m-me is n-nice... I'm n-not anywhere n-near afraid of you. I... y-you make me f-feel so g-good. I t-think... I t-think I love you." he stammered out, forcing himself to look up at the other mech instead of just hiding. No. No more hiding... not from Streak. Streak was nice, Streak was gentle... and Streak liked it when Quicksilver was calm.  
  
Streak froze for a second, startled, then looked down at Quicksilver and gave a soft little crooning noise as he saw the tiny mech's expression. Quicksilver looked so nervous, so unsure of himself... "Aww..."   
  
He didn't know what that meant- what did that mean? Quicksilver whimpered, very softly, and huddled into himself a bit more. He didn't hide or run away, despite rather wanting to, but he did look rather worried and confused. "I-I'm s-sorry-" he began, desperate to be sure Streak wouldn't be mad, then squeaked softly when he was suddenly kissed. "Mmh?"   
  
Streak pulled away slightly, keeping his forehelm gently pressed to Quicksilver's in an attempt to keep the tiny thing calm. "Aw... shh. Don't apologize, cutie... you just surprised me a bit, little one." he explained, gently stroking his servos over the pointed audio fins. "I... have to ask. Is there any chance you might be infatuated with me because you aren't used to good treatment?" the little mech asked softly, though he looked a bit reluctant to ask. "I'm not saying I don't want your attention... I just want to be sure of this."   
  
"I... yeah, 'm sure." Quicksilver whispered, nodding a tiny bit. "I d-don't know w-what... w-what this k-kind of l-love is supposed to feel l-like, but... I t-think, yes. I j-just... t-this keeps getting stronger..." he explained softly, pressing one servo to his chassis, over his spark chamber. "I-is t-that okay?"   
  
Streak hummed softly and gently pulled Quicksilver a bit closer, holding the smaller mech close and even wrapping a leg around him to be sure he couldn't hide away. "Yes, absolutely. I'll be honest, sweetspark... you're gorgeous, and I've been wanting you ever since I first saw you smile. You're absolutely precious, and I want you for myself... but I want to be absolutely sure I don't push you into anything. This is your life, and I want to give you as much freedom as possible. But... I want you, little one." he crooned, stroking his thumb gently across Quicksilver's cheek.    
Quicksilver wriggled his wings in a delighted gesture, a soft grin spreading across his faceplates. Oh, yes yes yes... Streak wanted him! This beautiful, sweet mech wanted him... "I... meeeh." he squeaked, completely lacking any words to explain how he felt, then he just whimpered and hugged himself up against Streak's frame. Crooning softly in delight, he flittered his wings again, then softly kissed Streak and ran his servos gently up the other's wings.   
  
Streak purred softly in return and ran his servos up to stroke the soft silver wings, gladly returning the attention. Such a pretty mech... and open to his advances, open to his love. He had to be careful, though... he didn't want to risk pushing Quicksilver into something. For now, though, he'd return the attention... and, yes, he was definitely going to court the pretty little mech. Humming gently, he stroked the length of those pretty wings, then very gently tugged on Quicksilver's side plating, scooting him up a bit further in order to kiss the plating over his fluttering spark.   
Humming to himself, Streak began to gently kiss his way down Quicksilver's frame, stopping with a very light kiss on the other mech's upper codpiece.   
  
Quicksilver squeaked slightly, a bit surprised, then looked down at Streak. "I... w-what're you doing?" he asked softly, though he didn't sound too frightened... just a bit confused. "I... a-are you... a-are you asking to...?"   
  
"Mmm, no..." Streak hummed, scooting up to meet his optics. "Just a reminder that I'm here when you decide you're willing to accept intimate pleasure from someone. Now... just curl up against me, please? Just let me hold you for a bit... this is what I like after interface."   
  
Quicksilver wriggled his wings and snuggled down into Streak's frame, clearly delighted by the attention, then nuzzled into Streak's collarbone and just hugged him. "Mmmh... I l-love how this f-feels..." he whispered, now doing his impression of a half-melted limpet.   
  
  
  
Unfortunately, the lovely attention didn't last. There was already some damage to the ship, and Streak had to land it to repair the dents. This was an icy planet, but it was low on wind, so it didn't feel too bad at first. Due to that, Quicksilver had gone flying... and he'd regretted it. When the wind picked up, the cold pierced directly through his thin plating, and his wings had quickly gone numb. He couldn't fly right with his wings numb, so Quicksilver had landed, but it hadn't really helped too much. He was now wading through knee-deep snow, trying to make his way back to the ship.   
Helm lowered against a sudden burst of thick snowflakes, Quicksilver didn't see the white mech in front of him until he ran into the larger being. Squeaking in alarm at hitting something metal and alive, he staggered backwards, then yelped again when the larger mech wrapped both arms around him. "N-no!"   
  
"Shh-shh..." the other crooned, gently picking Quicksilver up, then lightly touched the tip of one wing. "Your wings are freezing... you could suffer considerable sensory damage if you don't get them warmed up. It's alright... please calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to get you somewhere warmer, okay?"   
  
Quicksilver whimpered and huddled into himself, clearly frightened, trying and failing to wriggle away. NO... he didn't want to go anywhere with this mech! He'd just started feeling good about himself... he couldn't let that be changed. He couldn't let himself be hurt again. Squeaking in panic, he kicked around for a moment or two, then gave a soft cry of terror as his legs were carefully restrained. Shuddering, he closed his optics and hid his face, hoping this was going to be over soon.   
A short time later, there was a sudden lack of freezing wind. Cautiously peeking through his claws, Quicksilver looked around for a moment, then whimpered and huddled into himself when someone else approached. That was a Vehicon... no no no, bad, bad...  
  
"Shh... yer okay." someone crooned, reaching up and gently taking Quicksilver from the other mech. Humming to himself, the Vehicon cradled Quicksilver in his lap, gently attempting to uncurl the other mech. "Look at me, okay? See the chair?" he coaxed, seeing how exactly Quicksilver was curled up and what the little thing was trying to protect. "See? I'm paralyzed from the waist down, little one... I can't do what it looks like you're afraid of."   
  
Wait... what?   
Quicksilver blinked, uncurling a tiny bit and looking around. Oh. Look at that... this Vehicon was in a wheelchair. Huh. He might... might not be about to do what Quicksilver had been expecting. Now... the other one. Turning slightly, Quicksilver looked back at the white mech, then relaxed just a hair more when he saw the other's frame. Oh...   
  
The other mech was smallish and fairly stocky, but not in a bulky Wrecker-like fashion. He just had a mildly heavy build. He was a soft white all over, with a patchwork-like set of baby blue, lavender, and soft green lines across his frame. His armor flared out around his ankles and slightly along his wrists, and his audio fins were a sweeping design that neatly framed a set of worried lavender optics. Also, he wore energon blue medic's crosses on his shoulders.   
Well. That mech didn't look threatening. Looked more like a concerned youngling, especially with his body language. Slightly lowered wings, relaxed armor, slightly tilted helm, mildly worried expression... that wasn't threatening body language. Not in the slightest.  
  
Quicksilver tilted his helm, watching the soft white mech, then turned worried optics on the Vehicon. "I... w-who are y-you?" he asked, very softly, relaxing just a tiny bit now that he was around people who didn't seem likely to hurt him. They didn't look dangerous... he could be wrong, he was probably wrong, but.. it might be okay. Maybe.  
  
"M' name's Breaker. Little Snow-Camo over there is Patches. Sorry he freaked ya out like that... if he thinks someone needs help, he tends to be a bit grabby. And stubborn. He does have a point, though, you're slaggin' COLD." Breaker remarked, gently touching one of Quicksilver's servos. "Can you feel your clawtips at all? Patches, might wanna get an electric blanket or two."   
  
Patches scurried off and quickly came back with two blankets, then came close enough to gently drape them over both Quicksilver and Breaker. He gently tucked them around both mechs, then checked to be sure that the blanket around Breaker's pedes was still warm before retreating slightly. He didn't stay retreated, though, he scooted closer after a second.  
  
Quicksilver tucked further under the blanket, looking Patches over for a moment or two. Why did that mech look so very unthreatening? He just... he looked harmless, somehow, but Quicksilver couldn't put his finger on the exact reason. "W-why do you not l-look scary?" he whispered, then twitched his wings and whined when he realized he'd said it out loud.   
  
"Near as I can figure out, that little thing's just a big ole cluster of 'I'm nice' signals. See, that body type of his is more suited for something really young, and there're those big soft optics. White is usually associated with surrender or peace, and those soft stripes break up his outline in a way you don't usually see on warriors. And look at his posture... about as unthreatening as you can get. He's basically saying 'Aw, are you okay? Let me help.' with his frame. He'd be  _fluffy_  if that was something Cybertronians could be. He's really just givin' off all these friendly signals at people." Breaker explained, then reached up and gently rubbed behind one of Patches' audios. "And he gets lonely, which is why he's so close to us. Sorry, Patches, I can't cuddle you right now... I don't think this li'l mech would appreciate it. Hey- what's your name, li'l thing?"   
  
Quicksilver nervously watched Patches for a moment, curling into a tighter ball, then perked his wings slightly in acknowledgement of the friendly "Hi there!" perk of the other's doorwings. "I-I'm Quicksilver..." he squeaked, then cautiously looked around the inside of the large, mostly bare room. "W-where am I?" he asked, trying to figure out how much danger he was in. A crippled mech and a seemingly childlike medic... huh. He might be alright.  
  
"Breaker's ship. I have to ask... is there someone else on the planet with you? You're a small-frame Seeker, basically the worst body type for cold environments. You can't have been here long." Patches reasoned, tilting his helm to look down at Quicksilver.   
  
Did he... did he want to tell anyone? Maybe these mechs were dangerous...   
But... Quicksilver really wanted Streak. He was scared and he wanted comfort. Besides... Streak had been on his own for a while. He could probably take care of himself, right? "I... y-yes. H-his name is S-Streak... an-nother S-Seeker. H-he's on a l-little t-two-person s-ship. C-can you... f-find him? I-I'm n-not- I d-don't- I w-want him." he squeaked, clearly nervous and wanting to be somewhere else. Preferably somewhere with Streak.  
  
"Sure... I'll just send out a message on a wide range of frequencies and see if he picks up. Don't worry, little one, we'll find him for you..." Breaker cooed, reaching around Quicksilver to operate the controls of his chair and drive himself into the next room.   
This room was the control room, and it sure looked like it. Screens all over the place, control panels all along one wall, and a table covered in computer parts. Breaker wheeled his chair over to the control panel, typing something in, then spoke into a small microphone that was at about his face height. "Yo, anyone out there? Breaker calling. I got a little Seeker with me lookin' for his friend... anyone out there by the name of Streak?"   
  
Nothing but static for a few seconds, then a reply, though it was rather fuzzy and indistinct. "Streak here. Quicksilver, you okay?"   
  
"F-fine!" Quicksilver squeaked, though he did sound a bit nervous. "I, um, I f-found some p-people... t-they seem o-okay, I t-think. I kinda... I h-had to l-land. It's r-really c-cold w-when the wind starts..."   
  
"Glad to hear you're alright. Ah... Breaker, was it? Where are you? I'm sure you've noticed by now, little Quicksilver is a fairly nervous mech, and he doesn't like strangers. I'd like to come pick him up, if I may."   
  
"Sending coordinates now... we're in a half-buried ship, I'll get us taken off. You in a little ship? I got a fairly large cargo bay, and I don't mind company. You'd better get tucked in, there's a storm coming up." Breaker warned, absentmindedly playing with Quicksilver's shoulder armor as he spoke. When he noticed what he was doing, he stopped, looking down at the little mech. "Ah, sorry... don't mean to be playin' with your shoulder like that. I fiddle with whatever's in my servos, which happens to be you."   
  
"Excuse me... why exactly is Quicksilver in your servos?" Streak called, apparently having heard that bit. He should probably ask about that...  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not up to anything. Li'l thing's freezing cold, he's just tucked into my lap with a couple of electric blankets over him. Like I said, I fiddle with things that're in my servos, and that apparently applies to little mechs with delicate, detailed armor." the Vehicon explained, lightly patting the spot he'd been messing with.   
  
"I-I'm fine!" Quicksilver squeaked, curling into a little ball of metal and leaning on Breaker's chassis armor. He was calmed by the knowledge that Streak would be coming soon, apparently. "Um... y-you can play w-with my s-shoulder, I g-guess... I d-don't mind." he decided, choosing to do something that might help keep Breaker happy with him. It seemed like a safe route, and... he was okay with Breaker doing that. It didn't hurt.  
  
"Alright then... I'll be there as soon as I can. I have to fly low, though, this ship doesn't like high wind." Streak called, then the transmission cut off.   
  
"Slagging storm." Breaker muttered, then turned slightly and grasped the ship's controls. Flipping the ship's engines online, he carefully worked the ship side-to-side, managing to get it to break free of the snow without any major shaking. Once loose, he guided the ship straight up for a short distance, then put it into what was basically a "hover" mode, high enough for a small passenger ship to scoot underneath.   
  
  
A short time later, when Streak's ship came into view, Breaker opened the cargo bay just long enough to let Streak fly inside.   
  
Draped in an electric blanket, Quicksilver ran up to Streak and hugged him, then tugged gently on Streak's servo and attempted to coax him out of the cargo bay. "C'mon... it's c-cold h-here. I t-think t-these people are n-nice? I-I'm n-not s-sure, b-but..."   
  
Streak followed him out of the cargo bay, gently holding Quicksilver's servo, then stopped and looked a bit hesitant when he spotted Breaker. Uh oh... Vehicon. That might be bad for him, if the other mech recognized him... "Um... hello." he ventured, quietly hoping the other mech was either friendly or didn't know who he was.   
  
"Hey. We gotta fly, now, there's something huge headed this way." Breaker called, tapping a screen with what looked like weather radar on it. There was something big and swirling and angry headed towards them, and it definitely looked like bad news. "You two better stay here... it's not safe for a ship that small to fly in a storm like this. Also, Patches over there gets lonely. How about you two go and talk to Patches for a while? I can get us outta here just fine."   
  
Patches perked his doorwings in an excited manner, looking back over his shoulder as he headed for a room above the cargo bay. "Come on- please? Breaker is nice, but I need somebody else to talk to..." he coaxed, opening a door and heading into a different room.   
  
One wall of the room was mostly occupied by a large viewscreen, and the floor was about halfway covered in various amounts of padding, with a large couch rising up out of that on one side. Patches immediately went over to the couch and sat down, watching the two little Seekers with soft optics. "I... come sit over here, please?" he chirped, doing his best to look friendly and really just looking rather pleading instead.   
  
Streak gladly walked over and sat down right next to the larger mech, drawn to the lonely-youngling impression Patches was giving off, then turned and looked over at Quicksilver. "It's alright, sweetspark... come on." he crooned, patting the couch next to him and trying to coax his nervous little one over.   
  
Quicksilver really wasn't sure about this. Patches looked... too eager. What was he after? Had to be something...  
But Quicksilver was still tense, he still wanted Streak... and so he very slowly crept over, sitting next to Streak and keeping his optics locked on Patches.   
  
Patches vented heavily, hoping he wasn't about to scare the two away, then slowly reached towards Streak, just a bit. "Okay... I know you don't know me, but... I have a favor to ask. I have some rather overactive caregiving instincts, and I get kind of... anxious... if I don't have anything to take care of. Breaker is pretty independent... he tries to humor me, but he doesn't like too much attention. I... normally I work with younglings, too, adults don't usually quite work as a focus for the instincts. You're... I'm sorry, I know you're adult, but you're kind of small, I think you might be able to help... I just kind of-"   
  
Streak gently touched Patches's nervously shifting plating, his voice soft but firm as he spoke. "Hey. Just tell me what you want, okay? I'm... probably willing. What is it you'd like?" he asked, then reached down and took Quicksilver's servo in an effort to calm him. This really didn't seem like a dangerous situation... he wanted to get Quicksilver calmed down enough to see that.  
  
Patches looked down at the small blue servo on his plating, then slowly reached out and caressed one of Streak's audio fins, trying to explain. "I... can I hold you? I don't want to... interface or anything... I just... I need someone small to pay attention to. Please?" he whispered, then blinked and smiled when Streak climbed into his lap.   
  
Patches obviously needed some attention, and it sounded like the white mech just wanted to hold him... sure. Streak wasn't going to refuse that. Smiling up at the larger mech, he gently patted the other's rounded shoulder plating, flaring his armor slightly in an inviting manner. "Come on now... you're welcome to pet me, if that's what you're after. It's alright. I admit, I could probably use some attention..."   
  
Patches perked his doorwings even more, beaming, then pulled a polishing cloth out of subspace and carefully began to stroke it in circles over Streak's wing. "Let me know if there's anything I shouldn't do... and... thank you." he whispered, optics shining with innocent delight at having someone to pay attention to.   
  
"I don't have any spots I'm sensitive about, aside from the obvious. Just do what you'd like, I'm comfortable." Streak hummed, then motioned to Quicksilver, trying to coax him closer. "Come here, sweetspark. It's okay... let me get you calmed down again, you still look tense." he crooned, trying to look inviting. "Come here, sweetie..."   
  
Quicksilver was still really nervous about this, but... but he'd come a bit closer. Streak was safe, and... maybe it was okay to go over there. After a moment or two of worried observation, he slunk over to Patches, carefully tucking himself into Streak's lap as much as possible and pulling the electric blanket up over himself.   
  
"I'm Streak, by the way, and this sweetspark is Quicksilver. Be careful around him, please... he's very timid." Streak whispered, looking up at Patches, then looked down again and gently stroked Quicksilver's wings. "You have medic's crosses, but I've never seen them in that color. Is there a reason for that?"   
  
"Stylistic... I had some repairs done a little while ago, and the mech who did them thought I'd look nice with crosses that matched my paint job. Also... technically I'm still an apprentice. I can repair people, but I'm not technically qualified to preform major operations. I might possibly be able to, but I don't think I'd like to try." Patches hummed, then slowly reached over to Quicksilver and pulled the blanket up a bit higher on him. "Don't be afraid of me... please? I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." he crooned, then very gently caressed one of the pointed audio fins before pulling away. "I... I'm not going to ask you what happened to make you this nervous, but... I think I can guess. I'm not as naive as people think. Don't worry... I won't hurt you, and I won't let you be hurt. I'm a medic, I'm sworn not to hurt people."  
  
Quicksilver bit his lip and ducked his helm, then blinked and glanced back up at Patches. "I... o-okay." he whispered, then hid his faceplates in Streak's frame as he tried to figure out if he was safe. Patches really seemed harmless, but Quicksilver was worried that it might be a trick. He just... couldn't let himself believe.  
  
Streak looked down at him for a moment, then scooted to the side and gently tugged on Quicksilver's frame until he was fully in Patches' lap, which meant Patches could reach Quicksilver more easily. "Quicksilver, sweetspark... you can see what this sweet thing is doing, right? Well... would you be okay with him doing that with you? I promise, nothing bad will happen to you... it feels nice, it's just gentle petting."   
  
Quicksilver bit his lip, slowly looking up at Patches, then moved the blanket a bit to expose part of his back. Curling into Streak's frame to comfort himself, he kept his nervous optics on Patches, though he didn't move away. That sounded... okay. Streak was right here, keeping him safe, and... this mech seemed like he might be nice. And Streak wanted him to do this, so... he would do it. If he could.  
  
Patches moved very slowly, placing a servo just below Quicksilver's wing bases, then caressed the tiny mech's audio fins with the soft cloth. "Tell me if you're too uncomfortable with anything I'm doing. I'm trying to make you more comfortable, not upset you. I won't hurt you, I promise..." he whispered, then gave a dismayed little noise when Quicksilver squeaked and leaped away. "Oh- w-what's wrong?"   
  
Quicksilver landed a short distance away, flaring his wings up, then hid in a blanket and shivered all over for a moment or two. "I-I'm s-sorry... I j-just c-can't." he whispered, then relaxed a bit when Streak scooted closer to him.  
  
Streak hummed softly, curling himself up where both Patches and Quicksilver could reach him. "Just too nervous, hmm? It's alright, little one. At least let me hold you?"  
  
"Sorry..." Patches sighed, resisting the urge to grab Quicksilver and pick him up in an effort to comfort him. Instead, he began stroking Streak's audio fins, watching with soft optics as Streak tried to calm the frightened little mech.  _Cute, cute..._  
  
Quicksilver crept into Streak's lap, nervously regarding Patches for a moment, then tucked himself down and nuzzled Streak's chassis for a second. Okay... this was better. He just... hadn't liked being touched by somebody he didn't trust. He was okay with Patches (maybe), but he didn't want the soft white mech touching him.   
Then the ship gave a little shudder, reminding him that he was on a large ship that didn't belong to Streak. Biting his lip, Quicksilver looked around, then whispered softly to Streak. "A-are you s-sure this is a g-good idea?"   
  
"I'm sure." Streak hummed, gently caressing between the other's wings for a moment. "They seem very nice. Besides... you're nice company, but I've been a bit lonely. I'd like to be around other people. Now... are you okay with this? If you're really uncomfortable, we can leave, but I'd like to stay. And... I think it might be good for you to be around other people. Perhaps you'll become more at ease if you acclimate yourself to others."   
  
Quicksilver looked up at Patches, regarding the young medic, then nodded just a bit and reached up to pat the larger mech's servo. "I t-think I l-like you." he chirped, then ducked down and stroked a servo along Streak's arm in a soft gesture of affection. Patches seemed sweet... he was very gentle, and he didn't quite set off too many alarms in Quicksilver's mind.   
  
"Awww..." Patches cooed, looking down at the two little Seekers, then reached down and gently tugged a blanket up over Quicksilver. "There. Just curl up and relax... you're safe, I promise."  
  
Given the gentle attention from Streak and the overall calm environment (not to mention him being tired), Quicksilver fell asleep after a short time.   
  
When he did, Patches tucked the blanket a bit tighter, then looked down at Streak and hummed soothingly. "He'll be okay. I've dealt with traumatized people before... he's learned to trust you, that means he can learn to trust others. Also, you're right about this being good for him... if you can get him to be around others without being too uncomfortable, it'll most likely help him to calm down. This might be a good place for that, too... he was frightened of Breaker and I earlier, but he calmed down a bit after he got a look around. Neither one of us is terribly threatening, especially when instinctive fear is involved. I mostly give off signals that make people's instincts react as if I'm a youngling, which is usually interpreting me as nonthreatening and sometimes trying to protect me. Breaker... is actually more capable than he looks. But not only does he look fairly helpless, he keeps his body language very neutral. To someone used to violent mechs, we don't register as something dangerous. He was still scared, though... poor thing must be used to everybody being cruel to him." the medic sighed, then hummed a soft little tune for a moment when Quicksilver stirred a bit.   
  
 _(Author's note: Ever met someone who you just instinctively trust? Patches is like that, plus a good dose of "I'm a youngling, you should like and protect me" body language thrown in, despite him being an adult. Breaker just doesn't register as a threat thanks to the wheelchair and his extremely neutral body language. He fades into the background fairly often, and he just doesn't really show any major body language expressions aside from occasional "I am happy" and/or "I am exuberant today!" gestures.)_  
  
"He was very timid when I first met him... he expected me to hurt him. Poor thing." Streak sighed, then smiled when Patches' humming got Quicksilver to settle down. "Useful little trick... how'd you do that?"   
  
"I primarily worked with younglings." Patches explained, still gently petting Streak's frame with a soft cloth. He liked being able to give someone attention, he wasn't about to stop any time soon. "I learned some of the best ways to get people to fall asleep and stay asleep... it's just a matter of finding the right tone, really. Took some practice, but I've found what I believe is a tone that mimics the sounds a sparkling hears when curled up against or inside its carrier. It's just instinctively calming."   
  
Streak hummed and relaxed slightly, then reached under the blanket and stroked gently between Quicksilver's wings, watching the tiny mech as he slept. "You seem to know quite a bit about instincts... experience, I presume?"   
  
"And research. A lot of research. See... younglings don't typically use logic when they're afraid. Their fear is usually still instinct-based, so knowledge of instincts is really useful when dealing with little ones who have been hurt. Even if it's just an accidental injury, they're still afraid, and it's helpful to be able to calm someone on an instinctive level as well as appealing to logic." the young medic explained, resisting the urge to reach out and pull Quicksilver closer. That tiny little thing was causing his caretaker instincts to basically scream in his audios.   
  
"Can you teach me?" Streak asked, gently stroking Quicksilver's audio fins with both servos. "He's no longer afraid of me most of the time, but sometimes I accidentally trigger some instincts, and sometimes he's just very nervous for no reason I can figure out. I don't like seeing him that scared... he deserves to feel safe."   
  
"Most of it is trial-and-error with body language. I don't think there's any single method, really. I'd suggest learning some nice lullabies... he seems like he'd like that. Though... it might be best if you don't rely on my methods too much. My methods are based on caring for younglings... you don't want any form of a caretaker-youngling relationship to develop, from what I've seen. More of a romantic relationship, yes?"   
  
"Definitely." Streak hummed softly, gently placing a kiss on Quicksilver's helm to emphasize his point. "A careful one, of course, but yes. Though... do keep calming him down like that, I like seeing him calm. He's not easy to calm down, and- here, give me your servo. You might want to check this... I don't think it's healthy." he sighed, then guided Patches' servo to a spot on the side of Quicksilver's neck, right next to what would have been Quicksilver's collarbone had the tiny Seeker possessed bones. "Feel his sparkbeat. It's pretty much always this fast. At first, I thought he was just nervous, but... it doesn't slow down, and it doesn't get any steadier."   
  
Patches instinctively pressed a bit in order to feel Quicksilver's pulse, then raised an optic ridge as he felt the other mech's sparkbeat. "Oh... that's not good. His sparkbeat shouldn't be that fast, even considering his size, and it's a bit unsteady. I'd expect this on a mech who's either awake and terrified or suffering from some form of anxiety issue. And honestly, the latter is quite possible. I'll talk to him when he's awake, see if I can confirm that, but... this is a very distinctive sparkbeat pattern. On a recharging mech, it almost invariably means some form of anxiety issue is present."   
  
"I wouldn't be surprised." Streak sighed, now just gently petting Quicksilver's helm and audio fins. "Is there a way to get him calmed down? He's very sweet when he can manage to talk to people, but he's so easily frightened..."   
  
"Possibly. If it is what I think, a therapist might be the best bet. If he ever gets to a point where he can't function without being terrified, some sort of sedative is an option, but it might be best to avoid medication unless it's absolutely necessary. Perhaps, for now, we should just see how he copes with being around Breaker and I. Hopefully he'll calm down. If not, I'd want to talk to him while he's awake and fairly calm. I'd like to wait a couple of weeks and then just talk to him myself, see how he's feeling about himself... I can't give you much more information without interacting with him more. And... normally I'm not really supposed to talk to people about others' medical information, but... it won't be possible for me to help him if he won't let me, and you're the key to getting him calm enough to even consider trusting me. So..." pausing, he reached out and tapped a fingertip on Streak's forehelm, making a small noise. "Doop. There. I'm making you a honorary medic so I can share medical information with you, at least as regards this little one."  
  
Streak blinked, then chuckled slightly, somewhat entertained by this sweet mech. "Alright then. Oh- I know it might be a bit tricky, given our current position, but could you examine my back? There's something around my wing bases that sort of catches every time I transform. It's not painful, but it's a bit stiff, and I can't get my servos into that spot enough to get a look, even with mirrors."   
  
"Sure. Let's see... my guess would be that this intricate armor here is a bit out of place. Not uncommon with small mechs. Just let me get a good look at it, and tell me if anything hurts. This might be a bit uncomfortable, and I apologize in advance." Patches hummed, gently pressing on Streak's back to get the other mech into a better position, then began to lightly press on and shift the plating in question. "Mmm... not entirely out of place, but a bit awkwardly positioned. I'll just get my fingertips under it and push up a bit- there. Clicked a bit... that feel better?"   
  
Streak shifted a bit, then smiled, gently wiggling free of the two other mechs. "Keep him recharging. I'll test if that worked, hang on." he chirped, stepping away and transforming to test if the re-positioned armor was in the right spot. "Ah, that's just it. Perfect." he crooned, transforming back and going over to sit down next to Patches again.   
  
Quicksilver hadn't been woken, fortunately, but he did squeak a bit and wriggle until he was pressed up against something warm. It was Patches this time, but Quicksilver wasn't aware of that.   
  
Streak cuddled gently up against both of them, flaring his wings to allow Patches to resume his attention. "Mmm... I think I'd just like to lay here for awhile. Cold, wet weather usually gets me pretty dozy. Besides... Quicksilver has trouble sleeping sometimes, and I like seeing him recharging soundly."   
  
"Mmm... I know the feeling." Patches hummed, relaxing against the couch and idly resuming his gentle stroking of Streak's back plating. "It's always nice to see someone recharging peacefully when you've seen them terrified. Oh, and... if you wake up to me cuddling you, please don't panic. I tend to hug warm things when I'm recharging..."   
  
"Understood. I do the same... there's a good chance I'll end up pressed up against you either way." Streak chirped, then hugged Quicksilver close and gently tugged the blanket further up around his tiny one's frame. "Rest easy, little one, you're in no danger."   
  
  
Some time later, Quicksilver was woken by someone knocking on the wall near him. Giving a little "mrmph?" noise in evident confusion, he slowly opened his optics, then squeaked in alarm and automatically tried to run away. It didn't really work, considering that he was not only laying down but cuddled up against Streak.   
  
Startled awake by Quicksilver's flailing, Streak opened his optics, then sat up straight when he spotted two new mechs. "Ah... Patches. May want to wake up." he remarked, reaching back to shake the other mech's arm slightly and wake him up. His optics were wide open and held a fairly alert look, but his wings told a different story. They were crooked and tilted, basically "Mmmrrrph whaaa?" expressed in body language.  
  
Patches woke slowly, plainly not used to waking up in danger, then blinked and gave a confused little noise. "Oh, hello. Um... who are you?" he asked, tensing up slightly but not really seeming frightened. Those people were probably safe... right? Otherwise Breaker wouldn't have let them on the ship... and where  _was_  Breaker, anyway?  
  
"Hey, we have company!" Breaker called, fiddling with something on the armrest of his chair, then gave a satisfied little noise when the metal wheels of his chair unfolded into four spider-like mechanical legs. "Got it." he declared, slipping through the door and into the room. "Now, I don't know the little guy, but this guy here-" he paused, reaching out to pat the shoulder of a Vehicon standing next to him, "is Scratch. Only Vehicon to fight a healthy dragon solo and not die. Which, if you've ever seen those things, is real impressive."   
  
Scratch offered a little wave, then tilted his helm and looked down at Quicksilver, one doorwing lowering slightly. "Uh... is he okay?"   
  
Quicksilver was doing his best to burrow into Streak's frame, wings flared and trembling in alarm, servos gripping tightly at the other mech's plating. He didn't really look okay. He looked absolutely terrified.   
  
"Miiight wanna calm him down before he has a spark attack." Breaker sighed, then turned and left the room, calling back over his shoulder as he did. "I gotta go keep us from running into anything. Nobody terrify the teeny mech on purpose, he looks like he needs to be around safe people."   
  
"Shh, sweetspark, it's alright." Streak whispered, gently stroking Quicksilver's audio fins in an effort to calm him. "It's okay, sweetie... it's alright. You don't need to be scared... I'll keep you safe." he crooned, nuzzling the side of his tiny thing's helm.   
  
"Hey, li'l thing." someone hummed, then a slender grey mech leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at Quicksilver. "You got nothin' to be scared of... I'm not gonna hurt you, and Scratch won't hurt ya either. You okay?" he asked softly, reaching down to touch the tiny mech's shoulder. "It's okay, li'l mech."   
  
"Oh, you're injured..." Patches hummed, standing up and walking over to Scratch. "Your shoulder joint looks like it's been wrenched partially out of place... come on, the medbay's this way. That has to be painful... let me fix it."   
  
"Uh... alright then." Scratch muttered, following the younger mech out of the room. This young mech looked incredibly harmless, and he was wearing medic's crosses. It was probably safe to go with him... besides, Scratch's shoulder hurt quite a bit, and he'd really like to get it fixed.   
  
Abbadon hopped over the back of the couch and flopped down, watching Quicksilver with soft optics. "Hey... you scared of me? What's wrong?"   
  
Quicksilver's optics followed Scratch out of the room, then he relaxed slightly and turned his attention to Abbadon. Fairly small mech, gun-metal grey, spiny winglets, slender build, didn't seem threatening... and Quicksilver had noticed something. Whining softly in concern, he pointed one claw at Abbadon for a second, trying to get Streak to notice something.   
  
"Hmm?" Streak tilted his helm slightly, taking a moment to register, then his optics widened just a bit as he spotted what Quicksilver was so concerned about. "Oh... I see."   
  
Abbadon had matching sets of clawmarks on his sides, as well as a fair number of dents scattered along his back and inner thighs. He didn't look upset or badly injured, but those were bad signs...  
"Oh, this?" Abbadon hummed, glancing down at himself, then lightly rubbed one of the marks in his side. "Don't worry, li'l guy... Scratch hasn't been hurting me. See, I've got some wires crossed somehwere, so I don't feel pain as pain. Feels pretty slaggin' good to me. Plus, rough treatment during interface kinda turns me on. I like certain things during interface, and those things mean that I end up with dents and stuff. I just haven't removed the dents yet."   
  
Quicksilver looked him over for a moment or two, taking in the other mech's body language, then slowly reached out to touch a light dent in Abbadon's side. "I... w-why? W-why d-do you l-like t-that? It's n-not... n-not g-good."  
  
Abbadon looked down at him, optics soft, then leaned back and let Quicksilver get a good look at his body language. "Well... I'm not really sure why I like it. Gets me revved up. Can't say I understand it, but if I'm with a partner who won't injure me, it's real nice. Uh- you wanna take over?" he asked, turning his attention to Streak. "I mean, I'll explain, but he's kinda lookin' nervous... he's more used to you, looks like."   
  
"People have different tastes in interface, sweetspark. I know it's not what you've experienced, but consensual rough interface can feel really good." Streak hummed, then leaned in slightly and whispered in Quicksilver's audios. "I'm speaking from experience, little one. Believe me... rough doesn't mean unpleasant."   
  
Quicksilver blinked, giving a little squeaking noise, then turned and met Abbadon's optics. "I... a-are you s-sure you're okay? T-the Vehicon... is h-he..."   
  
"Aw, Scratch won't hurt ya. He's sweet. In fact, took me a while to convince him that it was okay to be as rough as I wanted... he was worried he'd hurt me. And I don't think tiny squeaky people are his type, anyway." Abbadon hummed, lounging back against the couch with his armor comfortably puffed up.   
  
Streak tilted his helm slightly, watching Abbadon, then hummed slightly as something clicked. "I'm pretty sure I've seen you before... your name sounds rather familiar, actually."   
  
"Thought I recognized you, didn't wanna ask. People tend to get a bit offended if you ask something like 'do I know you from the strip club I used to work at?'" Abbadon chuckled, then blinked and smirked slightly at the look on Quicksilver's faceplates. "No, tiny, he wasn't a stripper. He was a frequent customer with a fondness for sitting in someone's lap instead of getting a lapdance. Also, one of his buddies tossed him up on stage one time."   
  
Quicksilver blinked a couple of times, processing, then looked up at Streak. "I... really?" he asked softly, flicking his wings a bit and trying to decide what he thought of that. Well... it did make sense that Streak might end up somewhere like a strip club. Maybe a clean one.   
Were there clean strip clubs?   
  
"He worked at a lovely, clean, safe place with a full bar. Nice place to spend an evening, have a few drinks, and watch attractive people pole dance." Streak shrugged, looking down at Quicksilver. "I'd take you if it hadn't been blown up. And, you know, if we were anywhere near Cybertron."   
  
"Hey, tell ya what. Once the li'l guy gets comfy with having me around, I'd be happy to give you two a bit of a show..." Abbadon purred, then sighed and went from sprawled across the couch to just calmly sitting like a normal person when he saw the fear in Quicksilver's optics. "Oh, hey, no. Don't worry... I'm not sure what you're expecting, but my shows don't usually involve touching, and I keep all my inner armor on. Just lemme know if you decide you'd like a nice show, m'kay?"  
  
"I... okay." Quicksilver squeaked, then jolted when someone in another room gave a sharp cry of apparent pain. "Mwah?"   
  
"Thaaat sounded like Scratch. I'll just go check on him..." Abbadon declared, hopping up and trotting out of the room. "You two go back to cuddling or whatever."   
  
"Yes please." Quicksilver mumbled, nuzzling his face into Streak's side. Cuddling sounded nice, and... he needed to think about this for a few minutes to find out what he thought of this new mech. Abbadon was... strange.  
  
"Not used to that sort of mech, hmm?" Streak chuckled, slightly amused by Quicksilver's confused look. "He's harmless enough... just a bit odd. And also rather horny. But don't let that scare you, sweetspark... he's the submissive type. Wouldn't be interested in hurting you even if he was the type of mech to do that, and he isn't. He's safe."  
  
"A-are you s-sure?" Quicksilver whispered, though he didn't look terrified any more. Just a bit unsure. "I... h-he's a bit... I d-don't think I h-have a w-word."   
  
"I know. That's just Abbadon." Streak chuckled, then hummed softly and began to pet Quicksilver's audio fins. "I'm sure. He's harmless enough, sweetspark. Now... should we go and look around the ship?"   
  
"N-no... please. I'd r-rather just cuddle." the tiny mech whispered, curling up and pressing himself gently into Streak's frame. "I... t-the Vehicon s-scared me. I j-just want to c-calm down, please?"   
  
"Aw, sure, sweetspark." Streak crooned, reaching down to pull Quicksilver further into his lap. Humming softly, he stroked one servo down the little mech's side, then hummed to himself and started to pet gentle little circles on the exposed muscle cables in Quicksilver's stomach. "Don't worry, sweetspark, no one is going to hurt you. Just relax... you're safe, I promise you. I'll protect you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quicksilver is trying his best to be good to Streak, but he's not sure how. Physical gifts are the only thing he can think of... hence what he was up to at the start of this chapter. It's the best way he could think of to show his affection, and he also wanted to prove that he'd actually rather like to interface with Streak. His forebrain (and body) are saying yes, but his hindbrain is basically screaming NO YOU IDIOT WHAT ARE YOU DOING every time he tries. Except that up there... his instincts were okay with that. 
> 
> Does anybody want me to provide a full profile for the new OCs, or should I leave the story to show them to you?


End file.
